


the story of us

by peculiarblue



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: But mostly fluff, F/M, First Kiss, Getting Together, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Slow Dancing, give gina porter the world you cowards, is this actually a gina ej ashlyn family fic?, jk rina nation this one is for you, the s2 we deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 39,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23705251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peculiarblue/pseuds/peculiarblue
Summary: gina learns that sometimes things have to fall apart so that they can fall back together, right where they were always meant to be
Relationships: Ricky Bowen/Gina Porter
Comments: 27
Kudos: 185





	1. the story of us

**Author's Note:**

> okay real talk i've discovered any time i tell myself i'm gonna write a cute lil one-shot, my brain interprets that as 'let's write a novel!' but i've been trying to finish this since january and we're all stuck in our homes, so i see no point in not giving you the whole thing right now.
> 
> in the brave and very true words of icon olivia rodrigo: taylor swift is the best songwriter of our generation and anyone who says otherwise is lying to themselves. 
> 
> that in mind, this story is inspired by, and lyrics used are from the iconic bop 'the story of us'.

**_Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room,_ **

**_And we're not speaking_ **

Permanence is just a ten-letter word that Gina Porter has never known intimately enough to really care about. 

But when Ashlyn offers up her guest room, well, Gina’s never been opposed to expanding her vocabulary.

It’s not any different than the last seven schools and she’s pretty sure she’s become smart enough to not expect it. Everything in her life is a moving part. Absolutes like _always_ and _everything_ hold little value because they don’t exist in a life where she can’t sit in a house long enough for it to feel like home. But this place feels different, in a way Gina can’t name quite yet.

She’s not used to being optimistic about this kind of thing, but Ashlyn’s smile is so convincing, Gina lets herself lean into the optimism, just for the night. She agrees to at least spend the night (“ _For the party! First: you literally saved the show and second, but more selfishly: I need Big Red buffer before I learn how to speak without turning the color of my hair,”_ Ashlyn yells, pulling Gina into her side and running out of the school with her on her arm) and sends Ashlyn’s parents her mom’s number in the meantime. She sneaks glances at Mrs. Caswell on the phone every thirty seconds as she helps Ash set up, and wonders why hope is so dangerous when it feels this good.

“Heard I booked a round trip for nothing,” EJ’s voice behind her makes Gina jump, as she’s stacking some cups next to the drinks in the kitchen.

“Don’t jinx it,” she purses her lips as the senior hops onto the counter, swinging his feet on the base of the kitchen island, “But if I really do stay, I’ll owe you, like double what I already do.”

“Can’t double nothing,” he shrugs.

“What?”

“It’s simple math, Gina,” he shakes his head and picks up one cup off the top of Gina’s stack, and she starts to protest, but he quiets her. He tosses the cup in his right hand, “See, let’s pretend you owed me one cup for the flight here.”

“If you touch another cup, you have to use it.”

He rolls his eyes and picks up another anyway, “If you doubled it, you’d have two.” Gina nods along in understanding, and he continues, placing the two cups back on the stack, “But if you owe me zero cups, and I had to double that, I still have—“ he claps his empty hands together before holding them out to her, wiggling his fingers, “Zero.”

“EJ—”

“I’m not accepting anything, whether you get to stay or not,” he hops off the counter, “You’re actually doing me a favor.”

“Really?”

“Another Caswell kid in the rotation to wash dishes after family dinner night,” he winks in classic EJ fashion, but his voice is more sincere than Gina’s ever heard it, “Seriously, I’ve always been rooting for you. No different now.”

“Did someone throw another basketball at your head, that I missed before I got here?” Gina teases, pushing her stacks of cups back on the counter.

“A _comedian,”_ he punches her shoulder lightly, “You know I’m not going to be the only one thrilled about this. Warn us all before you tell Carlos so I can distribute earplugs.”

Gina laughs lightly, then looks up at EJ under her lashes, biting her bottom lip, “Actually, would it be cool if we maybe, _don’t,_ tell people anything. It’s just, you know—” Gina clears her throat nervously, spins the stacks of cups to avoid looking anywhere else, “Nothing’s like, _certain_ , and I don’t wanna, like, kill the vibe or anything if your aunt gets off the phone with my mom and—“

“Secret’s safe with me, Porter,” EJ twists a finger next to his lips like he’s locked them shut, “But if you do decide to share, again, let me know…” He covers his ears with his hands dramatically, and Gina laughs again, contemplates chucking one of his cups at him as he does.

The cast of _High School Musical_ really had become the closest friends she’s had in a long time, maybe ever, but old habits die hard, and there’s an art to keeping things to yourself that Gina knows she’s mastered better than friendship. She doesn’t see pros to telling anyone about it yet, not knowing details or even probabilities. It seemed like a kind of insane thing to let your daughter live across the country in a house of people she’d only known for half a year, and maybe even crazier that the Caswells are even _offering_ in the first place, and most crazy yet to tell her friends about it.

Because the last time she announced a move in front of the entire drama department went over _so well_.

She can picture almost everyone’s reactions though, and just that little bit of hopeful joy is maybe enough to keep her optimistic about the whole thing while she sits on it. EJ was right about Carlos’ screaming, she imagines Kourtney wouldn’t be too far behind with a bone crushing hug to follow, she’d gotten close with a bunch of the dancers in the show and figures there’d be some celebratory jazz squares going around, Seb would probably offer her weekends in his barn too, and it all sounds wonderful. She can see it, she’s never had friends like this.

And still, weighing all the pros and cons and settling on her decision to keep it a secret, there’s only one person she’d bend the rules for. And she’s not sure if she knows how he’d react.

Then again, she’s never had a friend like _that_ , so, she’s not sure even normal rules could apply.

“Why do you look like you’re trying to solve the all the equations in my calculus homework in your head right now?” Gina is snapped out of her thoughts by EJ again, still swinging his legs against the back of the counter beside her.

She looks at him thoughtfully, traces his him up and down, notes the way his fingers play nervously with the hem of his jacket like any other dumb theater kid trying to be vulnerable, not like _the_ EJ Caswell she’d been told to always expect.

“In the spirit of us being like, honest and unexpected suddenly,” Gina leans her elbows on the counter with a sigh, “Can I ask you a question?”

“That was already a question.”

She rolls her eyes up at him, “Have you ever known someone who, is literally just like everyone else around you, and because you _know_ they’re not supposed to be anything special, you spend almost every minute trying to figure out why they make all the rules you have suddenly seem…”

“Useless?”

Gina nods, “Worse than solving your caucus homework, huh?”

“Not if you’re in Smith’s AP class. That woman fuels my nightmares, seriously, don’t take her class next year,” EJ says with a light smile, “Look, I used to think the world revolved around me and my ideas, my needs, my rules.” Gina drums her fingers on the counter while EJ sighs, before continuing, “But doing this show, meeting a lot of new people, I learned everyone comes with their own set of rules. Its up to us to figure them out if we want to do more than just, _exist_ in the the same space.”

“Seems like a lot of work for every person we meet,” Gina says.

EJ tilts his head to one side, “Not for the people that matter.”

“That’s very wise of you, EJ Caswell,” she says, standing up next to him, her hip by his knees, shoulders side by side, “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Well, we’re being honest and unexpected,” he shrugs, “And also, I think we’re kinda being _friends_?”

“So you figured out my rules, huh?”

“Glad I did,” he smiles, rests a comforting hand on one of her shoulders, “Sometimes I think things could have ended up differently if I had figured this all out a little sooner, you know, played fairly and not taken good things I had for granted.”

“Like, you’d still be with Nini?”

“I think, maybe, I don’t know,” he purses his lips, “But then we wouldn’t be sitting here, being honest and unexpected—”

“—and _friends,_ ” Gina finishes with a smile.

“So yeah, I guess, maybe I figured it all out at the right time,” he smiles back, “I know it might not feel like the right time for you right now, with all this moving craziness and my cousin and Ricky and Nini getting back together—”

“Ricky and Nini got back together?” Gina is struck by how hard that hits her, especially when she had expected it, seen it coming, basically pushed him right to her less than two hours ago in the school gym. But if there is anything Gina has learned over the years, it’s that expecting not to expect things for herself never makes it hurt any less.

“Well, I mean, not officially, but that’s the rumor,” EJ shrugs, “You should still tell him though.”

“What? No, I— I don’t wanna tell anyone, I told you— it’s— why—”

“Cause we’re _friends_ and I’m not _stupid_ ,” he laughs dryly, “Fits your description perfectly. Dumb generic boy who shouldn’t be special to you but for some reason is.”

“I never said he was dumb.”

“I took some artistic liberties in my paraphrasing,” EJ smirks again, now hopping off the counter, “But I’m serious. God knows I haven’t figured out the kid’s rules, but, you seem to be one of the only people who’s got them, like _really_ gets them.”

“That’s not true, he’s got Red, and Ni—”

EJ shakes his head, “Not like you. Just, _think about it_. We’ve got time, these theater nerd parties go on way too long.” Gina laughs again, her nose scrunched up as EJ runs to leave the room, shaking his shoulders lightly, “God, it’s always freezing in this house, don’t forget to pack your sweatshirts.”

“I said, don’t jinx it!”

“Otherwise you’ll be forced to borrow mine all winter, _bestie_.”

Gina hides her smile in the crook of her shoulder before she runs out of the kitchen and towards the living room, where people start to arrive. The rest of the cast trickles in, in waves, stage makeup bold in regular lighting and the smell of full cans of hairspray permeating the air. Someone takes aux, the only request that the music be anything _but_ a Disney Channel soundtrack. Gina loves some HSM as much as the rest, but even she’s not complaining about the change of pace. Everyone’s in high spirits, even though their show was two steps from disaster every 30 seconds, and Gina finds herself once again slipping into an unconscious state of optimism. There must be something in the air in this place.

And in the middle of it all, the snacks and the karaoke and the posed-candid laughing pictures, Gina does _just think about it_. Thinks about it a lot. Because Ashlyn’s cozy living room is crowded, but her gaze keeps bumping into one person.

She’s on the end of the couch with Carlos and Seb, talking about some gossip Seb overheard in the dressing room about a showmance between the freshman boy who played Coach Bolton and a member of crew. It’s silly and funny and has Gina almost in stitches because Carlos is literally the greatest and most drastic storyteller Gina has ever heard, but she looks over just briefly enough at the kitchen to get a different showmance stuck in her head.

Ricky Bowen, dumb generic boy who ruins all the rules in question, is clinking the top of his soda can with Nini, laughing at some inside joke about it or something, and it is very painful to watch. She’s trying to focus back in on Seb because he’s saying something funny, she reacts on autopilot, but all she can focus on is how Nini leans up on her tippy toes and peers up at Ricky, flicks her eyes down at his can of soda, tries to steal a sip because it seems she likes his better than the one she’s got. And whatever conversation Carlos is making is a lost cause because Ricky’s curls are bouncing and he’s laughing even harder, dodging the girl at his side and wrapping an arm tightly and affectionately around her waist.

“Speaking of showmances...” Carlos says, his voice giggly, and Gina does not like where this is going.

She stands up abruptly, “I’m thirsty, do you guys want anything?”

The boys look up at her, eyes wide. Seb smiles and nods, says he’ll just have whatever Gina’s having because he doesn’t want to inconvenience her (his heart of gold, Gina feels like melting) and Carlos waves her away, “Nothing for me but, hurry back! You have to be here for my evidence on why I’ve discovered—” Gina runs off before he can finish the sentence.

It’s stupid, obviously, to avoid a conversation about a relationship using an excuse of going to the room said relationship is currently residing in. But when you fall for dumb generic guys, Gina guesses a little dumb must rub off on you.

Ricky and Nini are standing at the edge of the counter, where Gina was not too long ago with EJ. And just as she’s about to cross into the kitchen, Nini grabs his hand and pulls him towards the couch.

It’s like, _maybe_ whatever higher power is out there feeling bad for her, spares her this, just for the moment. Lets Gina stand alone on the outside of the crowded living room, and go another minute without having to speak to Ricky Bowen. Or maybe they want torture her with a better view of Ricky and Nini being in love. It’s very clear to her, the way she falls into his lap like everything’s lined up perfectly, and now they’ve got their ‘I love you’s in order too. Perfect.

She fills two cups from her stack with lemonade and starts back to her side of the couch with Carlos and Seb. She tries to ignore the way her leg bumps into Ricky’s knee very briefly as she drifts past the couple on the couch, then plops herself back down on the arm of the couch, third wheeling the significantly more bearable showmance.

“Okay, so, I have evidence,” Carlos claps excitedly, and to be honest, Gina is surprised even he is bold enough to talk about Ricky and Nini getting together when they’re sitting _right there_ , but she lets him continue, “Of the most insane couple to come out of this show. Not that I approve, per say,” he purses, and Seb squeezes his knee, “but it’s like, _good_ gossip.”

And she agrees, _she doesn’t approve,_ but how on earth this could be _good_ when Gina can see with her own two eyes that the two juniors were breaths away from making out right in front of the entire theater department right now is beyond her.

“Miss Jenn… _and Mazzarra!”_

Gina lets out a large breath she didn’t know she was holding and lets Carlos ramble excitedly. (And it really _is_ good gossip. She reminds herself to try to keep in touch if she leaves if only for updates on this “scandal”. Carlos’ words, not hers.)

Another hour or so passes without notice, Gina loses track of time hopping between talking to friends, a word that feels really great to use, and she’s glad if nothing else, she stayed for this.

They’re in the middle of a dance-off, EJ and Red doing their best to recreate Gina’s _Status Quo_ dance break, and it has the entire room, mostly Gina herself, near tears in laughter, when Ashlyn’s mom appears at the edge of the room. Gina catches her eye, and the woman wordlessly waves her over. Gina makes a swift exit, and meets her in the hallway.

“Everything okay, Mrs. Caswell?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I just, had news for you and I was gonna wait, but when I saw where that dancing was headed, I figured it would be nice of me to spare you the sight of my nephew attempting a split.”

Gina tries to cover her loud laugh with a hand, “Oh my gosh, at least Ashlyn’s proof that two left feet don’t run in the family.”

“True, but she’s nothing like _you_ ,” the woman beams and it makes Gina’s cheeks feel hot, “I can’t tell you how selfishly excited I am to be able to brag that the greatest dancer in all of Salt Lake is living in my guest room for the year.”

“Oh, that’s—” Gina begins to wave off the compliment, but then— “Wait, does that mean…”

She just smiles wider, nodding.

“Really?” Gina fists are clenched by her face, hiding her smile, eyes shiny and bright and in awe, “Like _really_ really?”

“ _Really_ really really!” Mrs. Caswell squeezes one of Gina’s hands when she drops it, all the air escaping her lungs and a breathy gasp of shock overcoming her face, “Got it all worked out with your mom. She’s calling the school tomorrow morning and I’ve got you a flight back to get all your things.”

“I can’t believe…” Gina can hardly finish a thought, her mind running a mile a minute, “I don’t even know what to say. Thank you, like, I can’t even thank you _enough_ —”

“Don’t be silly, you should get to finish out a year in one place. If we can do that for you here, I am more than happy to do it. Ashlyn always talked about you. We’re very excited,” her response is genuine, but Gina’s still buzzing so much she finds it hard to accept the way she brushes off the gesture so lightly.

“I didn’t— oh wow,” Gina runs her hands through her hair, cheesy grin plastered across her face.

“I was gonna wait but thought you might wanna tell some of your friends,” she says, “Ashlyn showed you the guest room, right? You bring back whatever you want, sweetie.”

“She did, it’s amazing,” Gina shakes her head, because _no way_ this is really happening, “Thank you, Mrs. Caswell.”

“Didn’t I already tell you to call me Debbie?” Gina smiles and Mrs. Caswell, er, _Debbie_ runs another reassuring hand over Gina’s shoulder, “I’m not interrupting anymore tonight. We’ll talk about details in the morning, sound good?”

“Yes, yes, thank you,” Gina waves at her as she exits, leaving Gina alone in the dim hallway. She seizes the opportunity to silently freak out, her exterior catching up to her inner monologue. She jumps and spins, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

She’s staying, like, _actually_ staying.

It doesn’t feel real. She doesn’t know what to do with all this energy now, she’s jittery and excited, like maybe she should run down the hallway once or twice, scream into a pillow or do a jazz square or something. She isn’t sure. But she’s _so_ excited she doesn’t know what to do with herself.

She wants to call her mom, obviously, but isn’t sure about the time difference, and then she wonders if Ashlyn knows, it being her idea and all, and then she really _really_ wants to tell—

“Ricky!” The door to the bathroom next to Gina swings open suddenly, and she jumps back with a yelp when she sees him.

_Of course_ it’s him. Ricky Bowen. Rules do not apply.

“Gina, hey,” he shoves his hands in his pockets, “Feel like I haven’t seen you all night.”

Which, _is a lie_ , because they’ve _seen_ each other plenty. Just have not said a single _word_ to each other. But now they’ve got a whole _eleven_ between them, so, _awesome._

“Yeah, guess we were both busy exiting and re-entering musicals,” she shrugs, mimicking his nervous stance, and she likes the way it earns her a little laugh from him, “Though you were the only one out of the pair of us to find time in all that excitement for a romantic monologue so...”

“That already spread?” He winces, still laughing.

“I heard you were practically yelling, mildly aggressive, with the door open, so, I don’t know how you expected no one to hear,” she continues to tease him, taps a finger to one ear, “We’ve got theater kid ears.”

“Guess I’m still waiting to inherit those.”

“I think you are granted full theater kid rights once you survive at least a second show,” Gina says, “Gotta show you’re the real deal.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, people have already got theories on the spring show, which I’m sure you’ve heard some. Are you team Disney show again, or are you like one of those like, ‘ _real_ theater’ people?” Ricky says excitedly, rocking back on his heels, but then it’s like a thought hits him, like he can’t ask Gina for her opinion on this because she doesn’t live here anymore, and he pales, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s okay,” she shakes her head, mumbling nervously over his nervous mumble. And well, Gina has _just_ _thought about it_ , like EJ asked her to. Thought about it a lot, actually, one of the only things she could think of all night. And he’s with Nini, fine, sure, she had a hand in it, she knows, and he’s happy, but they’re friends, and rules are rules, and maybe she can’t verbalize it but she _gets_ Ricky’s, for some crazy reason, and so… “Actually, can I tell you something?”

He sees the hint of a smile on her face, and it registers on his own as confusion, “Yeah, yeah of course.”

“I uh, I’m staying,” Gina plays with her fingers in front of her, looking down, rambling “I just, I know you probably caught me like, dancing in this dark hallway by myself and thought I was a total weirdo but I’ve never done a full year at a school before and I just, I’m really excited and— _oh_!”

Gina is cut off unexpectedly when she feels two arms wrap around her waist and her feet lifted off the ground.

“No way, no way, _no way_!” Gina feels Ricky mumble all in one fast breath on her neck, his head tucked as he spins her around in a hug, “Please tell me you’re being serious.”

“Stop yelling and put me down!” Gina giggles, letting herself squeeze Ricky a little bit tighter, feet still kicking above the ground.

“Not putting you down until you swear you’re not messing with me,” he says, leaning back just a bit to see her face, “Because if you’re messing with me I might start crying, but if you’re not messing with me… I’ll probably still start crying.”

“Not messing with you,” she whispers, their faces so close, and he finally drops her back to her feet. He slides his arms down and holds her hands in his, shaking them excitedly as he continues to yell.

“Oh my god! What happened? How are you— why? What?”

“Have you used every question up yet?”

He squeezes her hands, “Shut up.”

“Ashlyn’s parents are letting my stay in their guest room. I’ll move in after winter break, finish out at least the year.”

“Is that why you came back tonight?”

“No, no this is all, very recent, like, within the last few hours the plan was formed, discussed and executed,” Gina laughs, still in disbelief, “I haven’t even really processed it myself.”

“Does anyone else know? We should be _celebrating_!” Ricky yells again and spins them both around, their hands still interlocked.

Gina lets out through a breathy laugh, “I mean, Ashlyn’s mom _just_ told me it was actually happening like 30 seconds ago. It was Ashlyn’s idea and EJ kind of heard the plans on accident because he’s always here, but they don’t know it’s actually like, _happening_. I didn’t really wanna tell anyone.”

“But you just told me?” He asks, confusion lacing his voice, and Gina feels her cheeks heat up.

“Well, yeah, I mean, I tell you everything.”

Ricky likes that answer a lot apparently, as he surges forward for another hug. Gina feels all her muscles go lax against him, breathing in his scent, his worn-out jacket and floppy curls.

“Well, if you don’t wanna tell anyone, can _I_ tell everyone? Because seriously, this is the best thing anyone’s told me all day,” which is a very nice comment but it sits funny in Gina’s chest when she remembers he literally got back together with his girlfriend tonight, so she must have said something more exciting than what Gina had just confessed.

“Guess someone out there’s on your side, Bowen,” she sinks back from the hug and punches him in the shoulder, “Besides, someone’s gotta stick around to keep that ego of yours in check.”

“Oh my god, I’m actually gonna cry,” Ricky runs his hands down his face dramatically and Gina giggles, “I was about to miss you so bad.”

“You’re a sap.”

“I’m very emotional tonight, heard that was like, a theater kid thing too,” he says, backing up and leading the way for Gina to head back into the living room with the rest of the cast.

“Think that’s just you, Bowen. You’re a special one,” she hums, walking slowly in front of him.

“Gina Porter called _me_ special?” He clutches a hand to his heart, and Gina almost mimics it herself at the sight. Her feelings are practically unbearable at this point.

“Yeah, yeah I did.”

He sprints off with a newfound energy and back towards his spot on the couch, and he looks back at Gina once she settles into her seat on the opposite end, and that look almost makes _her_ feel special too, until he mouths a question, asking if he can tell Nini the good news.

Guess that’s who _he_ tells everything to.

It only takes 30-seconds for news to travel, and soon you can’t hear her heart breaking at all over the way Carlos is, as expected, screaming with joy and falling over the arm of the couch to hug her. EJ teases her for not giving him the warning he asked for, but hugs her tightest anyways, and offers her one of those promised sweatshirts to wear tonight for her first ever sleepover.

It comforts Gina to know even when things with Ricky make no sense, some rules make perfect sense, some _people_ make perfect sense, and she gets to keep them around for a little while longer.

She stays up all night on the floor of Ashlyn’s room, talking about nothing and everything, giggly and happy.

**_Oh, a simple complication,_ **

**_Miscommunications lead to fall out_ **

There’s just about two weeks left of school at East High before winter break after the show, so Gina bakes a speed-batch of thank you cupcakes in the Caswell kitchen, then jets back to New York to pack her things and spend the holidays with her mom. EJ and Ashlyn drive her to the airport (and EJ pretends not to be completely broken up about it, friendship is _weird_ ), Gina in the back seat with her small backpack and giddy energy. She’s missed her mom a lot, and can’t wait to catch her up on everything that went down at the musical, the weekend with her friends, and show her pictures of her new room.

And sure, it’s only been a few days since the news, but if her short stay in the guest room so far is any indication of the next few months she’s going to spend here, Gina isn’t sure her heart knows what to do with all that happiness at once. She loves her mom more than anyone, but it’s always been kind of a solo act for Gina. Living with the Caswells, there is no shortage of company at any point. It’s a welcome change. 4 people at the dinner table, loud and musical car rides, having to fight over who gets the bathroom first in the morning, washing dishes together and sharing blankets for movie night. Things you don’t know you’ve missed.

Its helped that her mom couldn’t be more excited for her, that she’s so supportive of Gina getting a little taste of a normal, mundane teenage run, even if it is a couple thousand miles away.

“You’ve got all your sweaters? Your phone charger? Oh, did you forget those fuzzy socks you like to wear at night? I swore I saw them in the laundry when I got back to the apartment after I dropped you at the airport and I can just mail them to—”

“Mom, I’ve got everything,” Gina sighs, tucking her phone under one ear as she tries to maneuver all her suitcases with just one free hand, “We triple checked.”

“I’m still gonna mail them to you. Your feet get cold at night and what if—”

“Okay, thanks mom,” she smiles to herself, feeling something twinge in her heart just a bit as her mom rambles on the phone, different time zones and different states.

“I’ll let you go, just wanted to make sure you landed all right. It’s always snowing there!” her mom says, typical worry lacing her voice.

“Not _always_ ,” Gina peers up on her tippy toes, scanning the large crowds of people milling about Salt Lake City International Airport, “Plus it was literally snowing when I left you.”

Poor choice of words maybe, but her mom laughs awkwardly anyway, “I love you, and I’m proud of you, and I _miss_ you—”

“Mom, if you make me cry in the middle of an airport for the second time today…”

“Every dumb cliche mom thing, I’m feeling it right now. You can wait to think about how much I love you until you’re in the safety of that gorgeous queen-sized guest room bed I’m very jealous of. Can’t have you crying in the airport, you’re a very ugly crier.”

“Mom!”

“You get it from me!” her mom laughs again, fuller this time, and sighs, “Okay, I’m really gonna go now. I’ll call you after school tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Gina smiles, just as she sees one of her favorite redheads pushing through crowds of people towards her, “Ashlyn’s here, I gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you, Gina girl. Enjoy that Caswell eggnog I heard so much about.”

Gina’s heart now about three sizes too big for her body, she presses off her phone and shoves it into her pocket and runs the last three steps before Ashlyn envelopes her into the world’s tightest hug.

“You’re back!”

“I’m back,” Gina echoes, breathing in the familiar feeling of _home_.

“Oh my god, we have so much to go over,” Ashlyn beams, grabbing one of Gina’s hands and one of her suitcases with the other, starting them towards the doors, “Mom and I set up your room with the boxes that got shipped here over break, and then we need to pick your outfit for your epic return to East High tomorrow. And apparently there’s a rumor our biology teacher got fired, so we have a lot to go over there, and Carlos is dropping very vague hints about the spring musical, so we need your opinion, because, well, you’re like the smartest out of all of us.”

“Time for a breath in there?” Gina laughs as she hits the cold (and, her mom was right, _snowy_ ) Utah air.

“No, actually,” Ashlyn teases back, rolling her bags over to where EJ’s car sits waiting, “But before _any_ of that can happen, you get to experience your first Caswell Family Fun Day.”

Caswell Family Fun Day, it turns out, is just a fun way of saying “clean up all the holiday decorations around the house listening to the last Christmas music playlist of the season before Ashlyn’s parents get home from wine night”. And though it really is just about as exciting as it sounds, Gina has not stopped smiling since she stepped foot into the house.

_Family_. She’s a part of this family now.

She barely has time to believe it before EJ’s finished throwing her suitcases in her new room, Ashlyn’s got Mariah Carey on the speakers and pushing out empty boxes to fill with Christmas tree ornaments. They stop about halfway up the tree, because that’s about as high as the girls are willing to reach, and resolve to better spend their time eating leftover Christmas cookies while jumping on the couch and watching EJ stoically put away the rest. Big Red shows up about an hour in, and then EJ knows he’s not getting any more help for the night, tossing big gold bows from the fireplace into a box with a little more punch than before. Gina just giggles and catches all the ones he misses.

Family. What a concept.

Gina learns EJ is over almost all the time. Their families are close, which would be enough, but both sets of parents are out almost all the time, so Ashlyn and EJ have developed a sort of system for sticking together. Gina’s excited to have been roped into it, chores and all.

One thing Ashlyn forgot to mention in her mile-long list of things to catch Gina up on at the airport was how much time she spent with Big Red over winter break, and Gina shoots her a look in the middle of a very enthusiastic “Jingle Bells” that implores they _will_ be discussing this later.

Crush details withholding or not, Red is a good addition to the team, his newly trained stage crew hands helpful in organizing them. It’s all fun, more fun than EJ and Ashlyn’s eye rolls in the car when they first introduced the concept to Gina would have ever implied, and everything is going wonderfully for Gina’s first day back, until well, for one person, the feeling’s the exact opposite.

Gina’s not sure what time it is, but there’s only one cookie left in the box of Christmas cookies and EJ has given up on trying to get the star down from the top of the tree, Gina sprawled across the couch with Ash and Red, not paying attention to the couple as she scrolls mindlessly on her phone. She doesn’t notice anything is wrong, not when Red shifts nervously in his seat on the couch, not when he stands up, phone to his ear and walks towards the kitchen, not when Ashlyn follows him, not when EJ complains that Ashlyn turned the music off right in the middle of Justin Bieber’s “Drummer Boy”.

“Honestly she did us a service there,” Gina rolls her head to one side to see EJ sitting on the floor, pouting, “I think I’d have to move out if we condoned any Bieber under this roof.”

“So soon, after we just got you back?” EJ clutches a hand dramatically to his chest, “You’re breaking my heart, Porter.”

“Shut up,” she tosses a stray candy cane at him, which he catches, and takes to unwrapping. He breaks off a piece and offers it to her, crossing back over to join her on the couch.

And _that’s_ when she notices something is wrong. In the middle of swatting EJ’s smelly feet from where he tries to sprawl them over her lap across the couch, she can tell something is wrong.

“Hey, hey, dude, it’s okay I’m—” Gina hears Red say from the kitchen, his eyebrows knitted together and his fingers drumming nervously on the counter, “No, you’re right. I _don’t_ know if it’s going to be okay, but you’re okay, and that’s what matters.”

Gina sits up slightly, tapping EJ to get his attention and have him listen in too.

“Where is he?” Ashlyn whispers to Red, and he nods, to her or whoever’s on the phone, Gina can’t tell, but he looks worried.

“Now? You’re driving _now_?” Red yells, “It’s snowing really bad now, Ricky, and—”

_Ricky_. Gina doesn’t catch the rest of what Red says while her mind catches up to the beating of her heart. What happened? Why is he upset? Calling Red? Driving in the snow? It was just flurries when Gina left the airport, but it started coming down hard an hour or two ago, basically trapping Red and EJ here for the night and Ashlyn’s parents at EJ’s with his. Not to mention, Gina _knew_ Ricky was a bad driver in good weather. And in the snow? Obviously upset? Her heart lurched as she stood up from the couch without thinking.

“Where are you?” Red asks again, listening intently for the answer. Gina misses it, as he whispers it to Ashlyn, but hears Ashlyn say back, “That’s like, two blocks from my house. Tell him to come here.”

“Hey, Ricky? You still there?” He asks, delicately. Gina can’t help but marvel at what a good friend Red is, and Ashlyn, and even EJ, who ran over to them, already shrugging his coat on asking where he could pick the other boy up. Gina just stood, worried out of her mind but still trying to figure out how this whole _friends_ thing worked.

“You know where Ashlyn’s is, right? We’re here, it’s all good.”

Ashlyn leans forward, her face closer to Red’s phone, and says brightly, “I’ve got all the breakup ice cream you could ever want, Ricky.”

_Breakup?_

“You’re _not_ imposing dude, EJ’s here, I’m here, and Gina, the world’s newest and _best_ Caswell, is here,” which earns Red a punch in the shoulder from his girlfriend.

“It wasn’t a stiff competition Ash, he threw a basketball at my face and ditched all of us for Gina at homecoming.”

“No, no, you can talk to her when you get here,” Red implores, then nods quickly, “Promise, she’s saving you a spot on the couch. Okay? Drive like 2 miles an hour, dude, I’m serious, and come straight here.”

He mumbles something else then hangs up, looking almost out of breath and he drops dramatically onto the counter, “It’s not gonna be a good look to be named Red and have gray hair.”

“He’s coming here?” Gina asks, joining the other three teens in the kitchen.

Red nods, “Did anyone know Nini got into that school?”

“What? That’s not possible, I saw the woman walk out in the middle of curtain call!” Ashlyn shakes her head, pacing past the kitchen island and going to get what Gina presumes is the breakup ice cream.

“Well, apparently it’s very possible, because she’s going, like _tomorrow_.”

“What?”

“Okay, love the girl, but we fucked up at least three major scenes in the last 20 minutes of the show alone,” EJ says, eyes wide, “No way she _actually_ got in.”

“That’s what you’re choosing to focus on right now?” Ashlyn rolls her eyes.

“What about Ricky? What happened?” Gina asks, worried.

“He didn’t tell me much, but it didn’t seem like the news went over well,” Red says, looking around at everyone in the room, “Odds are he’s still not gonna tell us the whole story, or at least all of us. So whichever one of us gets it has to swear to share with the class,” he holds out both his pinkies for a promise from everyone.

“I’m betting the last Christmas cookie it’s Gina,” EJ nods, but pinky promises anyway.

Gina links her pinky around Red’s and tries to hide the heat that rises to her cheeks.

Just under five minutes later, the doorbell rings, and Gina all but runs from where she’d been stewing in her worry on the couch to the door. She flings it open, sends in a gust of wind and a flurry of snow before Ricky drops right into her arms, hot tears on her sweater that clash with the winter air.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Gina soothes, instinctively running a hand up and down his back as Ashlyn shuts the front door behind them. She points to the kitchen and gestures towards where the ice cream is waiting, but Gina just shakes her head.

“I— I’m really—” Ricky starts to say, sounding more like a choke, so Gina holds him tighter.

“Shh, you don’t have to say anything,” Gina sighs, “You’re here, and safe, that’s all that matters.”

Gina feels Ricky rubs the tears off his eyes and pull back a little, to see Gina’s face. She gives him her best smile, and to her complete surprise, he shoots her one right back. Puffy red eyes and bright cheeks, disheveled hair, and that charming smile.

“ _You’re_ here.”

“I’m here.”

“This is a very shitty welcome back to Salt Lake, huh?”

Ricky settles down his crying enough to untangle himself from where he’s latched onto Gina in the front hallway, and finds a new spot curled up next to Red on the couch. He holds his mug of hot chocolate gingerly in his hands, after swearing up and down to Ashlyn that _yes, he was fine_ and _no, he wasn’t hungry_ and _yeah, he told his dad he was here_ but _no, breakup ice cream was not necessary_.

Well shit. She knows she’s still learning the rules of friendship but something tells her being sad your best friend probably didn’t break up with the love of his life tonight isn’t in the Good Friendship manifesto.

They’re situated around the living room, a box of tissues overflowing on the coffee table, while Ricky breaks the whole thing down for them over their warm beverages and the final Christmas cookie dived into 5 tiny pieces.

Gina’s in and out of concentration, at points listening to his every word intently, and at other’s fixated on watching him, seeing his chest rise and fall and his socked feet toe at the couch cushion nervously and his curls, wet from running out of Nini’s house in the snow, flopping on his forehead and slowly returning to life as they dry in the heat.

But here’s what she’s gathered:

Ricky went over the Nini’s to hang out tonight, and apparently one comment from Ricky about school made her slip about _her_ new school, the Youth Actor’s Conservatory. She got in and they wanted her to start right away, right after break, and it was such a good opportunity Nini didn’t know how to say no. She also didn’t know how to say anything about it to anyone here, not saying anything to Ricky being the key issue here. Ricky rambles something that must be only intended for Red to understand, talking about feelings and communication and how badly he messed up last time. Gina vaguely remembers hearing about the l-word song and fiasco. Ricky seems pissed now, not heartbroken, saying he thought they were finally on the same page with everything, that they told each other everything and it was gonna work.

_She should have told me_ , _right?_ he repeats, over and over again, as he explains it all to them, _I didn’t even know if we were really back together or whatever, so I don’t know if we’re really broken up or not now!_ He turned down the breakup ice cream so he must be leaning on the side of _not_ , Gina thinks.

They went from not saying anything to suddenly saying too much, yelling and fighting just enough for Ricky to want to stupidly storm out of her house in the middle of a snow storm. Stupid. But that’s how he ended up here, crying and confused and venting his every frazzled inner thought.

_I don’t want to be mad at her_ , he repeats, over and over again, and maybe that one hurts Gina worse, _but I feel like we’re back where we started. I want her to go and follow her dreams, it’s just, I wish she told me._

“She should have told me, right?” Ricky takes an angry sip of his hot chocolate, “Or no? Am I supposed to be mad? I need advice here, if I’m totally wrong, just tell me, I’ll fix it. I _promised_ Nini I was gonna do better this time.”

“Hey, you telling her how you feel is a big step up from the last time,” Red offers optimistically, “We can all see you’re trying to be better.”

“Still ran away.”

“Well,” Red nods, “Baby steps.”

“I mean it was kind of messed up of her to not tell you until the day before she left, but, I see where she was coming from?” Ashlyn suggests, and Ricky nods, understanding, “And honestly I would not have wanted to stay in that house after a fight like that either, so, I’m not judging.”

“I guess, I don’t know, I just got so caught up in everything after the musical, maybe things still weren’t right?” and Gina can see Ricky physically stressing over this, “And now she’s mad at me and I’m mad at her and she’s gonna be in Denver next week, so, none of it really matters anyway.”

“We still have the ice cream, dude,” EJ offers, gesturing to the kitchen, “Honestly, it might be the same carton from when Nini broke up with _me…”_

Gina shuts the senior up by throwing a pillow at his face, and is glad if nothing it at least made Ricky laugh a little.

“You’ll work it out, you’re _Ricky and Nini_ ,” Red says, as if that explains it all.

“Might not be enough anymore, man,” Ricky shakes his head, sipping his hot chocolate again, “I know things weren’t gonna be perfect, but I told her I thought we were supposed to tell each other everything now. Like, communication was never my strong suit, yeah, I know, but I’m _trying._ And all Nini did was basically laugh in my face and say there’s no person on Earth who tells someone _everything_.”

“I mean—”

“Gina tells me everything!”

And well, Gina is sure Nini did not like that answer. Not at all.

Ricky sits back after his outburst, curls his long legs under himself and sighs into the couch cushions, “Nini and I were friends before everything so I thought at least those rules still applied, you know, like I’m telling _you guys_ everything because you’re good friends and I showed up at your door crying.”

“Makes sense.”

“Which, speaking of, I actually feel so awful for interrupting, and spilling all that on you. Honestly, the more I talk about it the stupider and smaller all my problems feel,” Ricky shakes his head, looking over at Gina, “But thanks for listening, anyway.”

“Seriously, Ricky, it’s no problem,” Ashlyn says, “You needed to get off the road, and we needed an excuse not to do my parent’s chores for them.”

“Woah! Speak for yourselves! You left _me_ to clean up while you three sat around and enjoyed each other’s company!” EJ stands up, ready to throw the pillow back at the couch.

“Maybe if you enjoyed our company…”

“I do enjoy your company!”

“Can we get that in writing?”

“Woah, wait, you were cleaning up?” Ricky stands up suddenly, “Let me help.”

“Ricky…”

“No, no, you helped me, lemme help you,” Ricky claps his hand, shaking any lingering sadness off with it.

“Well, I’m not complaining, I am tired of being the only one who can reach the high stuff here,” EJ smiles at the other boy, then points him towards the tree, where he’d been previously wrestling with getting the star down.

Gina is still working out the rules of friendship, sure, but this feels nice. It feels right.

It’s a little while later, her and Ash and Red guilted back into helping again, and Gina’s mostly finished taking stuff down from her side of the room, struggling only with one last thing hanging up in the doorway to the living room that she can’t quite seem to reach. She stands on her tippy toes, leans up, stretches her arm, even jumps and—

“Need some help there, Porter?”

If it was EJ, like she’d expected, she’d have kicked him in the shin behind her, but she turns and is suddenly face to face with Ricky, and any rules she’d figured out about friendship tonight are suddenly thrown out the window and into the winter storm.

She smiles at him, her mouth not able to catch up with her racing mind, and hopes the silence is enough for him for the moment. He pulls down some shiny tinsel with ease, gathers it in a bundle by their feet, then reach up again, but is stopped by Gina’s voice.

“I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

“I’m giving you none, actually, I’ll tell everyone I cleaned up all your decorations for you,” Ricky rolls his eyes with a smirk, kicks at the tinsel below their feet.

“No, I mean, I don’t or, I didn’t,” Gina shakes her head, ducks her eyes down nervously when he looks at her, “I didn’t tell you everything.”

“I don’t…” Ricky trails off, “What didn’t you tell me?”

_Plenty of things_ , Gina thinks, ticking off a pretty solid list in her head, most points starting and ending with her overwhelming feelings for him, how she swears she can never tell him that, not then, not now, probably not ever, not when there’s always going to be a _Ricky and Nini_.

But she settles for, “Uh, when I left, had to move. I didn’t tell you I was leaving, just didn’t show up to school.”

He refutes this almost immediately, “That was different, I knew you were leaving. You told us, told me, about your mom and moving, even if I didn’t get an exact date and time. Plus, you answered my texts as soon as you were free.”

A lie, she thinks, she avoided answering him for hours, the fear that all the space between them would either make her confident enough or stupid enough to slip up and tell him the one thing that she couldn’t. But she doesn’t feel like clarifying right now, not when he’s smiling at her like that, and not when he’d asked EJ for some of that ice cream ten minutes ago.

“You also told me when you were _staying_ ,” he adds, dwelling on that last word, and Gina tries to imagine a world where Nini told him she was staying, not leaving, and how different this night would look.

“You don’t have to vouch for me just because you feel bad you got tear-stains on my favorite sweatshirt,” Gina rolls her eyes, “But thanks.”

“It’s like, our thing, right? You tell me what you’re feeling and I tell you what I’m feeling and you don’t make me feel like a bad person for feeling it. You’ve been doing it since homecoming. _You get it_.”

And well. Gina’s not really sure how to respond to that without dropping everything about _what she’s feeling_ right then and there, no mind for the consequences that would surely follow.

“I don’t know, it sounds stupid when I say it, because I know I shouldn’t be expecting things from Nini when _I’m_ the one who screwed up—”

“Hey, it’s not stupid,” Gina says, “ _You’re_ stupid, but it’s not stupid.”

“Don’t make me cry again, Gina, seriously, I swore I’d never let my ugly cry ever see the light of day, and you saw it, full force tonight.”

“I’m a pretty ugly crier too, get it from my mom,” Gina smiles, “Had to hang up on her in the airport to avoid an episode in the middle of the arrivals gate today.”

“Save your tears for the pillow, huh?”

“Got an Abby Lee Miller on our hands.”

Ricky laughs and steps up to Gina, so close she thinks she can hear his heart beating. Or maybe that’s hers, she’s not sure.

“Well, if we’re both ugly criers, you can use my sweatshirt instead of your pillow anytime you need it, Gi, scouts honor,” Ricky crosses his fingers in a salute, beaming at her, his breath fanning over her face.

“You’d be a terrible Boy Scout,” she bites her bottom lip to keep from smiling so wide.

“Alright, when I said tell me _everything_ …”

She waves him off with a laugh, nods behind him and back towards the kitchen, where the other three are finished and sitting around the table, dishing out ice cream for dinner, “C’mon, let’s go get that ice cream before it melts.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Ricky yells, stopping Gina by grabbing hold of one of her wrists, “We forgot this one.”

Gina follow his eyes up and spots it, _mistletoe_ , hanging above their heads, the last little decoration she couldn’t reach.

“Oh, it’s fine, we can just get it later, maybe torment Ash and—”

But then he kisses her, right on the cheek, softly and barely there, but still _there_ , so _there_ that Gina rushes a hand to cover it once he’s gone, trying to keep the gentle pressure there just a second longer.

He reaches up just as fast, no effort at all, and pulls the mistletoe down, drops it in the pile of tinsel, and smiles at her.

“Okay, now that’s everything,” Ricky turns and heads for the kitchen, “Red, save me some rainbow sprinkles!”

**_And I'm dying to know,_ **

**_Is it killing you like it's killing me?_ **

Three days after school starts again, Miss Jenn announces the spring musical, and in all those three days, Gina doesn’t go out of her way to talk to Ricky much. For her own self-preservation of course. It sucks being in love with someone who already made the choice not to love you back.

But she’s not avoiding him, that’s too strong a word for it, she’s just not actively seeking him out. She sees him by her locker between fourth and fifth period and they talk for a minute before she has to rush to the science wing, she asks him about his new lab partner and they talk about how that rumor about the biology teacher was actually true, she even sits with him and some other theater people at lunch, all normal. But she isn’t sure she should be finding more ways to complicate her already complicated life when things with Ricky are weird, yeah, always weird, but normal, because they’re _always weird_.

Her transition back to East High was going really well, and far be it from Ricky and Nini’s odd affinity for ‘not really breaking up but kind of always being in the process of it’ to get in the way of her success. She hasn’t asked about their current status, Ricky hasn’t offered it up either, but he hasn’t shown he’s been affected at all, no more crying, no more unannounced visits in the snow, so Gina just leaves it be. Not her problem. She was so happy to reclaim her seat next to Carlos in English, and try to get History answers out of Seb, and take the comfy back seat of EJ’s car to and from school every day. She didn’t need undefined boundaries and feelings from Ricky to impede her happiness. Not when this kind of strange purgatory was working out so far.

It all goes to shit though, on that third day back, when Miss Jenn says they’re doing _Beauty and the Beast_ and Carlos drags her to sign up for auditions after the last bell, and Gina notices a name missing from the list.

“So, what do we think?” Ashlyn greets her as she slides into EJ’s car, getting ready to head home, “Because I think this is fantastic.”

“Rico called it, none of us believed him,” EJ shakes his head, “But yeah, it’s gonna be good.”

“Lowkey know I’m gonna get typecast as Mrs. Potts, but highkey could care less,” Ashlyn turns back to Gina as EJ starts the car, “Literally an icon.”

“There’s a lot of really fun dances, Carlos didn’t shut up the entire English period,” Gina rolls her eyes.

“Ashlyn, you _need_ to convince Red to audition. There is nothing I want more for my last show than to sing Gaston with him as LeFou,” EJ starts to pull out of his parking spot slowly, and Ashlyn almost bounces out of her seat.

“Okay, icon number two, but, hello? _Beast_?”

“What about it?” EJ asks, and Gina kicks his seat from behind.

“Do not tell me you’re not trying out for Beast!”

“We learned I am not cut out for lead roles,” EJ laughs, “Seriously, I’m a new me. Chill, relaxed, here to have fun and play everyone’s favorite bad guy on stage, not off.”

“Inspiring, but I’m not buying it,” Ashlyn rolls her eyes, “You were made for the Beast, and no, that is not some lame mean cousin joke. Gina, back me up, here.”

“Gina can back you up when she says she’s trying out for Belle,” EJ peers up at her in his rearview mirror, and caught in the act, she sinks back in her seat.

“Gina Middle Name Porter?” Ashlyn gasps, “What is going on in this car?”

“We’ve been over this already, I just like being in the show, no pressure,” she shrugs, “But I’ve actually had an insane year of self-discovery, EJ has no excuse.”

“Beast! Beast! Beast! Beast!” Ashlyn chants, dramatically knocking her fist on the console between the passenger and driver seats.

EJ just huffs, “Oh my god, Miss Jenn’s gonna give it to Ricky anyway. I’m not doing that whole feud again.”

“Ricky didn’t sign up,” Gina says, leaning up closer to the cousins between the seats.

“Didn’t stop him last year.”

“Yeah, but this year he had Carlos chirping in his ear all during study hall about following the rules, and his name still wasn’t on the list when I went after last period,” Gina drums her fingers on her phone nervously, “You think they really broke up?”

“If anything, then he _should_ be doing the show, really stick it to her,” EJ fist bumps his steering wheel and Gina chuckles.

“But Nini is _so_ nice, I don’t believe they had as big of a blow up over this as he made it seem the other night,” Ashlyn reasons, “And she’d _never_ tell him to stop like, doing something he actually enjoyed just to spite him in an argument.”

“Maybe he feels weird about it though, only joined for her last year,” EJ counters again, and Gina sits back in her seat and thinks about it as he continues, “It’s like when girls dye their hair after a guy breaks their heart and then they regret it a few months later and go back to the original color. Only instead of dyeing his hair, Ricky joined the drama club.”

“That metaphor was just… I’m speechless,” Ashlyn balks from the front seat.

And yeah, Gina knows she’s not supposed to care but the truth is she cares a whole damn lot, has since the day she walked into this school and he played his guitar and her icy cold exterior did not stand a chance. And so as hard as she tried to make it not her problem, three days in, and she’s done for.

“He really liked doing the show,” Gina doesn’t know what train of thought she’s interrupted from one of the cousins in the front, but they both stop and look at her, “It doesn’t seem right that he’s not doing this one, he was texting me about all the showtunes he was teaching himself over break to impress Carlos. Something’s wrong.”

“Maybe he just forgot to put his name on the list,” EJ shrugs, “We all know Miss Jenn will let him waltz in tomorrow, no questions asked.”

“Let it go, dude,” Ashlyn sighs, “let it go.”

“Alright _Elsa_ , I wasn’t being bitter, I was just saying,” EJ says pointedly, “We can still get him to change his mind before tomorrow.”

“A changed man, who thought we’d live to see the day!” Ashlyn shakes her head, then turns back to Gina, “But he’s right. Have you talked to him?”

“No,” Gina answers, almost too quickly, “He probably won’t answer if I text him.”

“Ask Red for his address, we could show up with some feel-good cookies and convince him,” EJ eyes Ashlyn’s phone, promoting her.

“No, he won’t be home,” Gina says again, quickly, “Mom came back to pick up some things she left in the move, and that would not help him if he’s upset about Nini or the show or something.”

“Well, he’s not at Big Red’s,” Ashlyn adds, “He had a dentist appointment right after school.”

“So where the hell did this kid go?” EJ laughs, stopping at a red light, “It’s like 20 degrees outside, and he’s probably dramatically riding around town on that skateboard for—”

_“Skating!_ He’s at the skatepark!” Gina yells, bounces up in her seat, “Go there! Now!”

“Do I look like I know where the skate park is, Porter?”

“I’ll navigate, you drive,” Gina points haphazardly out the front window of the car, and she directs EJ for the next few minutes through traffic and to the skatepark. She hasn’t visited since one of the first weeks of the school year, when she had been trying to scheme a way into getting Nini kicked out of the show and keep Ricky in. Weird, what can happen in a few months, with Nini actually gone and Gina still trying to keep Ricky in the show.

When they arrive, Ashlyn turns to look between Gina and her cousin, “Okay, so, what’s our plan here?”

“Do we even know he’s here?”

“He’ll be here,” Gina says, certain, already itching to reach for the door handle and run and find him.

“So, who’s going?” Ashlyn asks again, “What’s our plan here?”

“Well, probably not me,” EJ points, “And Ash, you give a really good pep talk, but he probably won’t appreciate a crowd and I don’t see us ever getting Gina to agree to stay in the car for this, so…”

Ashlyn smiles and looks up to Gina, “You got it?”

“I’ll text you if I need backup,” Gina says, scooting across the seat and towards the door, “Thanks.”

She all but runs out and down the pathway to the skatepark, stopping on the top step and scanning the place. It’s mostly empty, a few people here and there, which is why Gina is concerned when she _still_ doesn’t spot Ricky. She was so sure he’d be here—

“Gina?”

She looks up when she hears him, sitting on the steps across from her that lead into the park from the other side.

“Hey,” she shoves her hands in her pocket nervously, because yeah, the plan was great and all getting here, but now she was here and her adrenaline has petered out, “What are you doing here?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“I’m here to think, it’s a good place for that.”

“It’s a terrible place to think,” he narrows his eyes at her as she makes her way towards him, skipping over and up the last few remaining steps between them, “It’s loud and usually crowded, and skaters are judge-y.”

“So, _you’re_ not here to think,” Gina says, take a seat next to him, “You’re here to _avoid_.”

Catching onto her drift and not liking here it was headed, Ricky scoffs, whole body tensing up, “Gina, I really don’t wanna talk about—”

“You don’t have to talk, I’m here to _think_ , remember?” And god, she hates that she’s made him her problem again, the cold air hitting her in the face. But his body is so warm, sided up against her, fingers itching out to hold onto each other, and she makes him an exception, again and again, without a second thought on the matter.

She lets him sit in the silence, relative silence, at least, as skaters whiz around down below them, Ricky pushing his skateboard at his feet on the step below him, his untied shoelace getting caught under one of the wheels. It’s a good time for her to plan out where her motivating speech should go, since she really hadn’t thought about it much on the drive over, too worried about just _finding him._

“Okay, I have like, three, maybe four, different ideas on what you’re here to lecture me about, so why don’t you just save us both the headache and tell me straight up,” Ricky says, knocking his knee against hers.

“Four ideas? Jeez, do I need to hide a body or something?” She jokes, likes the way it lights up his smile just a little.

“Would I be at the skatepark if I was a murderer?”

“Maybe,” Gina smirks, “No, no, it probably just means you’re being dramatic about not doing a musical.”

“So that’s what we’re thinking and not talking about?”

“That would be it, yeah, nothing too bad,” Gina leans closer to him, just a little, “Honestly, we can skip the whole argument if you just tell me it was a mistake and you’ll put your name on the list for auditions first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Afraid I cannot do that, Gi.”

“You’re gonna make me do the lecture?” She’s genuinely asking, because she honestly still really hasn’t got it entirely worked out.

“I really _was_ gonna sign up, I swear,” Ricky says, “You _know_ I was excited.”

“Yeah, you were.”

“It just… at the last second, something didn’t feel right, I was standing in front of the paper with Kourtney, and she was passing me the pen, and then, I don’t know, its stupid.”

“What’s with all the stupids lately, Bowen? Only _I’m_ allowed to use that word on you,” she eyes him, but places a gentle hand on his knee, encouraging him on.

“But then… then I heard some people, I don’t know, freshman, maybe, behind us, talking about how it was a good thing Nini left because maybe that Troy guy would leave too. I don’t know, something like that. Like I said, it was stupid.”

“You’re right, they were stupid,” Gina implores, “You are so insanely talented Ricky, East High really didn’t know what it was missing with you just in the audience for three years.”

“You’re the only one that thinks that.”

“I’m definitely not,” Gina says, “Those two losers who wanted you gone are the only ones that are thinking that you’re not the most incredible addition to the cast, and they’re either bitter, or jealous, or tone-deaf, all things I know you are not.”

“Eh, I was a little jealous last year,” Ricky weighs, bopping his head side to side with he thought.

“It’s a new year, c’mon, I didn’t come back here to let Carlos boss me around to more Disney songs alone,” she nudges him, “We’re all in this together, Wildcat.”

“I hated that,” he says, but he smiles, and it warms Gina up fast.

“But you _don’t hate_ musicals, and other than two bitter freshmen, none of us hate you.”

“It’s also…” Ricky bounces his left leg, biting his bottom lip and already regretting the next work out of his mouth, “Nini.”

“No, we’re not doing this, we’re not stopping our lives for _a girl_.”

“She’s not— it’s not like—”

“What’s it not like, Ricky? Some girl keeps a secret, says a few things you don’t like and you’re going to let it ruin the rest of your year?” Gina squares her shoulders towards him, “I know at the begging of the year, putting your life on hold and dropping everything because you were heartbroken is what got you _into_ the show, but it shouldn’t also be the reason you drop out of this one before it even starts.”

“It’s not that easy, Gina.”

“Yes, it is,” she steadies on, determined, “I don’t think you should have to give up something you _love_ because of…” _someone you love._

It gets quiet again, quiet between them, loud in the skatepark, before Ricky sighs with his whole chest, and drops his head on Gina’s shoulder.

“When did you get all wise and preachy, huh?”

“Always been wise,” she hums, lets a hand drift almost instinctively to cradle him closer to her, plays with the curls at the back of his neck, “And I love a good comeback monologue.”

“Such a theater kid,” he shakes his head, Gina’s curls now flopping over his eyes with the motion.

“That insult is now useless, since you’re a theater kid too,” she says, hopeful, “And as a theater kid, you’re gonna text Carlos immediately and tell him you made a grave error and actually wanna audition tomorrow.”

“Five more minutes,” Ricky whines, his eyes fluttering shut and his toes tapping at the soles of Gina’s shoes, “Gimme five more minutes here.”

Gina can feel all the tension leave his body against hers, his chest deflates and his muscles relax, and he just sits, content and convinced, right on Gina’s shoulder.

Fuck it, she thinks, with feelings like this, this boy will _always_ be her problem.

She’s warm and cozy and vulnerable, just sitting there, in their five minutes of peace, when Ricky speaks again, “How’d you find me?”

“Superpowers,” she answers flatly.

“I’m serious, Gi,” but there’s a smile lacing his voice, “How’d you know I’d be here?”

“I’ve found you here to save a show before, haven’t I?”

“Huh,” Ricky quirks, “I guess history really does repeat itself.”

“Let’s hope not,” Gina smiles down at him, focused only on the way his fingers trace circles on her knee, and not on anything coming out of her mouth at the moment, “After I left here last time I had to help EJ steal Nini’s phone, and now he’s willingly handing the part of Beast to you, and I’m really hoping now that I practically live with the guy we’re past that—“

“What did you say?”

And maybe Ricky and his feelings will always be her problem to deal with, but _her_ feelings _for_ Ricky sure seem to keep creating problems on their own.

“What?”

“What did you— You, what?” Ricky sits up quickly and Gina suddenly feels very cold all over, ice crawling up her shoulder and branching across every inch of her body.

“I didn’t—”

_“_ Tell me I’m wrong, you’re not— that you _didn’t—”_

“I didn’t!”

“You stole Nini’s phone?” Ricky scoots back on the step again, putting a foot between them, “How? Why? I don’t understand...”

“Its not like that, Ricky,” she rambles fast, trying to close the gap again because she’s cold, she’s so cold and she hates it, “I didn’t mean for—”

“What’s it not like, Gina?” He spits her words from before back at her, “Some girl gets something you want and suddenly it’s okay to go around stealing things? Deleting messages?”

“That was EJ, Ricky, I just—”

“You just _stole her phone_!”

“Can I please explain, really, I didn’t mean to—”

_“_ What do you want to explain first, Gina? Explain how you accidentally put a phone that doesn’t belong to you in a bag that also doesn’t belong to you? How you lied to me, to Nini, to _all of us_ , for months? You wanna explain that? Because I’d love to hear whatever fake excuses you’re gonna have for this one.”

And well, Gina’s not having it. She may have feelings for the boy, but she’s never seen him like this. He’s angry, and loud, and bold, and Gina can’t fight the feeling of cold covering every inch of her the longer he looks at her, yells at her, like that, fast and hot.

“They’re not fake excuses, it’s all real. I was really different when I got here, I know it. I thought I had to be the lead, and keeping you in the show meant Nini was gone and that lead spot was mine. You stayed and it didn’t work so I got desperate and started working with EJ. I’ve never been proud of it, not for a second, I mean it. My priorities were messed up because I grew up with a lot of things expected of me, things _you_ wouldn’t understand—”

“I _do_ understand Gina! I _would have_ understood if you’d told me! That’s our thing!” Ricky yells, “We get each other.”

“I’ve been playing life like a solo since before I can remember and when I got here, I still thought that’s how I had to play it. So, while you’ve just been learning to grow up alone this year, I’ve been six steps ahead of you. There are some things you just can’t _get,_ Ricky.”

“Are you serious, right now? I couldn’t _get it_ because you _lied_ to me!” Ricky’s whole chest deflates as he takes another step back from her, shouts louder, “You used me, Gina. You made me feel like I was good at something that I felt really insecure about because it was part of some, some messed up plan—”

“You weren’t part of my plan Ricky,” Gina sighs exasperatedly, “You were never part of the plan. And everything that happened between us—”

“ _What_ happened between us?”

Nothing. Everything. Gina isn’t sure anymore.

“What happened between us…” Ricky starts again, “What happened between us wasn’t real, apparently.”

“It _was_ real, I wanted to tell you.”

“I don’t even know why it matters now,” Ricky paces up and down the step he’s standing on, “Was this thing part of the scheme too? Did you know about Nini and that school? Are you gonna steal Kourtney’s phone because she’s auditioning for Belle?”

“Ricky, you’re being ridiculous,” Gina states, her voice even, “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it as many times as I have to—I changed, _everything_ changed. I realized I wasn’t alone, I realized I didn’t need to have all this pressure on me. Things are different now. I regretted it immediately, and I called everything off almost seconds after you dropped me off after homecoming.”

“I just—” Ricky searches for words, pulling at his hair, “Do you understand why I’m mad right now?”

“Yeah, but—”

_“_ No, no buts, I’m allowed to just be mad, Gina. It’s bad enough you invaded someone’s property without a second thought, it’s bad enough that you were selfish and lead us all on for weeks,” Ricky stops two steps away from her, a sharp venom in his voice, “But you know what really hurts, Gina? You were supposed to be my one person who told me everything. And now it seems like this whole time you’ve been telling me nothing.”

Nope. Not today, Bowen.

It would be a good time for Gina to dramatically shed a single tear, drop and clutch her chest like she’s physically fighting a broken heart, like the way he shoots those words at her could actually pierce her skin. She’d cry as she ran off and the rain started, she’d beg for forgiveness and wait a sappy sad montage or two for Ricky to come back and realize none of it mattered anyway.

But Ricky is her problem. He will always be a problem, and it’s been killing her from the inside out for months. She will not let him have this when she knows he is not alone in being hurt by someone who you want to care more than it seems they do.

So she doesn’t cry, she closes the gap on the steps between them. Doesn’t raise her voice, speaks calmly and evenly, her eyes dark and right on his.

“Okay, you know what? You want _everything_? Fine, let’s do everything,” she bites, “But let’s make this clear. We can’t have a conversation about honesty before we acknowledge how you haven’t been totally honest with me either. You used _me_ , Ricky, right when it was convenient. You were the first person I ever wanted to tell everything to, I’ve never been more open about myself and my shitty past than I was that night in your ugly orange car. But _I_ was not _your_ first person. You had Nini, you told _her_ everything. And when she decided she didn’t wanna be responsible for your everything anymore, because it was messy and confusing and not worth the trouble, where did you go?”

Silence. Ricky stares at her, eyes wide and mouth screwed shut, lips pressed into a thin line. But Gina wants an answer.

“Where’d you go, Ricky?”

He stays quiet, looks down at his board.

“Right, I’m doing _everything_ here. Guess I’ll keep going,” she says, her eyebrows raised, “You found _me_ , Ricky. You took something _I_ felt insecure about, and made me feel really good about it. And this was not a part in a play, Ricky, this was a part in _my life_. You did that, you manipulated that. You were selfish, maybe not with your feelings, but with mine, and that’s honestly worse.”

Gina huffs loudly, watches the air puff between them as she settles her fists on her hips.

“So okay, in September I wanted the lead role in a high school production of a subpar Disney Channel movie. But in October, I thought you wanted a role in my life, and imagine my shock when in December, I discovered neither of us really wanted those roles anymore. Only thing is, when I stopped caring about playing Gabriella, I helped your girlfriend get into her dream school and I helped you win her back. I didn’t tell you everything but I _did everything_ you needed me too. But _you realized,_ you didn’t need a Nini replacement when you could have the real thing again.”

She shifts the weight on her feet, waits for him to look back up at her before she speaks again, “That night of the show, I looked at you singing up on stage right after you swore to me up and down you’d never do it again, and then I looked over at EJ, and realized what a good understudy I actually am. You lost the privilege of getting to know my everything, when I know I will always be an understudy in the Ricky show. I know am, and always will be, nothing more than your second choice.”

“I’m sorry about Nini’s phone, and I’m sorry about lying about it. But I’m not sorry for the way I’ve treated you because all of it’s been real,” She looks at him for a second longer, then starts down the steps and back towards the entrance. She stops herself about three steps away from him and turns, pursing her lips, “You should really try out for _Beauty and the Beast_. That’s what I came here for, and all of that was true too. You’re really talented, Ricky. Good singer, _great_ actor.”

She barely registers the last few steps before she’s back out in the cold, searching the parking lot for EJ’s white car, craving the warmth of it, the warmth of anything as the cold catches up to her again and she finally, finally lets herself cry. She shuts the door and it opens the floodgates. Ashlyn climbs into the backset and Gina lets EJ entertain the idea of punching Ricky in the face.

“I just wanna go home? Can we go home?”

And it’s funny that sitting in a guest room of a house that doesn’t belong to her is where that is, but feels so right, and real.

Someone chose her. And that’s enough to stop the tears for the night.

**_I don’t know what to say_ **

**_Since the twist of fate when it all broke down_ **

Gina isn’t really sure what she expected either way. Good chance she scared Ricky just enough with the end of her speech to keep him away from auditions, but just as good a chance he felt like he had something to prove and came anyway. She knows Ashlyn would have known the answer hours before the last bell of the day from Big Red, but she doesn’t really find it in herself to care so much either way.

(That’s a lie, though, she knows. She cares plenty.)

Despite her relatively neutral stance on the matter, she’s still shocked when she walks into their rehearsal room and she finds he’s already there, flipping through some pages of lines with Red. She almost trips over her own feet when he braves some very bold eye contact with her that she doesn’t think she can reciprocate. Not because she cares, but because she _doesn’t,_ obviously.

She rushes past the seats he and his friend occupy and finds EJ tossing a script between his hands. He watches her flit her eyes between the boys nervously before he hits her on the shoulder with his rolled-up papers, “Shake it off, Porter, he’s not worth it.”

“I’m fine,” she says, lies, and does her best to convince EJ with a smile. Judging by his face, the attempt falls flat, “How does it feel to no longer hold the title of ‘worst feud with Ricky Bowen’?”

“I don’t know, since I still have it,” EJ says, squaring his shoulders towards her, “As far as I’m concerned, it’s not a feud when one opponent has nothing to stand on. He was an asshole to you.”

“An asshole with a reason.”

“Not true, you won that fight before it even started, Gina,” EJ hands over her sheets of script, “Like I said, he’s not worth it.”

Gina has a hard time believing it, or her heart does, anyway, since she feels it tugging towards him the entire time they sit here, waiting to be called up to the stage.

She’s glad EJ’s pissed for her, since she’s finding it pretty hard to be. He spent most of last night livid on her behalf as he paced around her room, giving her and Ashlyn all the reasons why Ricky’s reaction was wrong and that Gina shouldn’t feel so bad, that she’s not a bad person, not in the slightest ( _I would know,_ he had said, _because I’m an awful person)._ And she is actually glad someone’s thinking it, because Gina doesn’t think, deep down, she’s actually mad at him. She spent most of the night thinking of ways they’d get over this, how he’d apologize and what she’d say and how all the drama of it would be over. It felt good in the moment but now…

She finally finds a spare breath in her thoughts to look down at the pages EJ has handed her, and furrows her brow when she realizes who she’s reading for, “What is this?”

“What is what?”

“Why am I holding a sheet with Belle’s lines highlighted?”

“Cause you’re trying out for Belle with me,” EJ flashes her his signature grin, shows off his own pages with the complimentary Beast lines shaded in yellow.

“EJ, I told you—”

“It’s not actually for the part,” he says, before lowering his voice to a whisper, “Kourtney’s got the part in the bag, honestly, no offense, you’re not getting it. But I spent all last night pissed that some junior who cares more about Tony Hawk than the Tony’s thinks he can break your heart and make you feel like shit for things you didn’t deserve.”

“You quoting Sharpay to me right now, Caswell?”

“With good reason. I don’t want there to be any way someone makes you audition with him. If you’re with me, you’re safe,” EJ huffs, “Gonna show him he messed with the wrong family.”

“Yeah, because the Porter family of two living cross-country will really put him in his place.”

“As long as you’re stealing my spot on Ashlyn’s couch, you’re a Caswell,” he says, smiling so genuinely down at her, Gina has to hold in just about the ugliest cry she’s ever felt coming, “So you sing with me, dance with me, make me look good. And you only have to give that jerk the time of day if it involves punching him square in the nose like he deserves.”

Gina ricks back on her heels, sighs long and loud, and then, “I’m gonna hug you now.”

“Gina Porter, don’t—”

“I’m gonna hug you, you big, lovable Beast!” She yells, giggling, before throwing her arms around the boy’s torso and holding him tight.

And if she sees Ricky turn bright red (and maybe even a little green), it’s an added bonus.

When she gets to the stage, Gina realizes she’s very lucky she doesn’t get nervous about auditions anymore, because being around Ricky in the fallout of their fight has her shaking enough as it is. Her new self-appointed body guard is a grounding presence though, and she’s glad even if Ricky never speaks to her again, the whole ordeal at least forced EJ to try out for the role he so obviously deserved.

She nails her singing, her dancing, it all goes fine. She glues her eyes to the highlighted script in front of her when Ricky sings, a real song, from the show, sans guitar, and tries to think about anything other than how lovely it sounds to hear his voice again, just for the briefest moment. He sings so gently, so kindly, that she almost forgets how loud and brash he was with her yesterday. She feels if she weren’t so certain of EJ’s claim to the role, she’d vouch highly for Ricky’s ability to pull off a menacing scowl and a rough exterior fit for a beast.

It all passes by in a blur, Gina not speaking to anyone more than she has to, not trusting herself to really put together sentences that don’t all sound like they’re going to end in her fifteenth round of ugly-crying in the past 24 hours. There’s not much she remembers before Miss Jenn is putting up the cast list in the hallway.

Her name is on the sheet twice. She scans past the first one rather quickly, her eyes only focusing in on the second.

_Belle (Understudy)…Gina Porter_

_Beast (Understudy)…Ricky Bowen_

Maybe it’s EJ who finally pulls her from her trance, helps her blink the world back into focus once she’s out of the excited bubble whose energy she cannot find any way in herself to match.

Ricky exits the crowd in front of the list just seconds after her, bumps into her shoulder in the motion and without thinking, looks at her behind him as he walks away, mumbles a low “sorry” under his breath.

_Sorry for what, which thing are you actually deciding to apologize for?_ she wonders. Because she thinks she’d forgive him. Just like that. Love is stupid.

But he rubs his shoulder so she guesses it’s not the apology she was looking for.

“EJ, I will show up to your house with a pot of chicken soup every time you so much as even _think_ about sneezing,” Gina warns as she walks back to EJ’s car, the Caswells on either side of her, “You’re not missing a _single_ rehearsal.)

“Wouldn’t dream it, Gi.”

And nope, she doesn’t care at all. Not one bit. She has nothing to say to him.

(She doesn’t care how painfully obvious that lie is. She’ll keep trying to believe it until maybe it feels true.)

**_I'd tell you I miss you, but I don't know how,_ **

**_I've never heard silence quite this loud_ **

****

****

When Gina puts her feelings aside for a few seconds, she can actually see how amazing their show is already shaping up to be. They’ve been in rehearsal for a few weeks now, just under a month, and besides it just being a lot of fun to race around the stage with various inanimate objects tied to her head, the show looks really good. Gina is technically playing Chip, which Ashlyn gets a kick out of playing Mrs. Potts alongside her, but her scenes are pretty minimal, freeing her up for any and every dance number Carlos’s wild imagination could dream up (which is more than Gina thinks there should legally be allowed, boy really has her breaking a sweat 5 days a week).

And yes, it’s fun, but Gina feels like pinching herself every time she recognizes the routine-ness of it all. Morning coffee with EJ, a whole day of school at East High, rehearsals in the afternoon, washing dishes with Ashlyn after dinner, doing homework on her bed and getting distracted by her friends on her phone. It’s so normal and mundane and all the same, every day, and Gina appreciates every second of it.

And though Gina has spent her entire life wishing and waiting for a life that stands still, doesn’t change, is permanent and constant, there is one thing (read: person) she’s still holding out hope for to make a change.

She’s sitting on the couch with Ashlyn, Kourtney and Carlos, eating ice cream and watching Cheetah Girls 2 one Friday night and between appreciating the cinematic masterpiece that it is, is also appreciating the normalcy of it all, having friends come over and hang out at the place she lives. Crazy. Wonderful.

When Carlos brings up one curly hair skater, not so much.

“I can’t wait for the day I get into a huge fight with someone so they can apologize to me in their fuzzy slippers with a Cheetah Girls song,” Kourtney says, waving her spoon of ice cream around, “It’s literally the only form of apology I’d accept.”

“I can think of better musical apologies,” Ashlyn counters, “Have I ever told you guys about EJ’s song?”

“You did but I try to pretend you _didn’t_ ,” Carlos rolls his eyes, and starts humming a tune, making Gina laugh so hard she can’t finish the ice cream on her spoon.

“You gotta admit, Troy Bolton was really the love song apology expert,” Gina points, once she catches her breath.

“I’m sorry, I cannot stop imagining Ricky serenading me outside my window,” Carlos snorts, shaking his head, “And then my mom coming into my room and shooing him away with her frying pan.”

“Not if I pushed him off your balcony first!” Ashlyn scrunches her nose like she’s just smelled something terrible, “And to think, I gave him the last of my good breakup ice cream!”

“Guys, he’s not that bad,” Gina says shyly, and Carlos almost jumps to standing on the couch.

“Gina Middle Name Porter, you take that back right now!”

“Carlos—”

“Nope, not having it, we don’t let boys break our hearts!”

“You’ve been spending too much time with EJ,” Gina rolls her eyes, “He already hated the guy, so anything he says about the situation is biased.”

“Okay, I actually _have_ been spending a lot of time with EJ,” Kourtney says, “And the guy is making some points.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on Ricky’s side?” Gina asks, trying to distract herself with another scoop of ice cream.

“Girl, you _know_ I am Team Gina,” Kourtney says, “Just because I have to be friends with him, doesn’t mean I don’t think he’s a little bitch sometimes.”

“What do you mean, _have_ to be friends?”

“I was only ever friends with him by association because of Nini, but when she left, she told me not to drop him,” Kourtney says, uninterested, “He’s actually cool, but like I said,” she looks right at Gina, “Little bitch.”

“I actually _did_ do something wrong, though,” Gina shakes her head, trying to justify the same argument she’s been having with herself for the past three weeks, “Everything I accused him of could’ve just been in my head.”

“Once you explained it, we all saw it,” Ashlyn says, and the other two teens nod in agreement.

“And Nini and I stole a bunch of your stuff right back,” Kourtney says, “As far as I’m concerned, Ricky can’t be mad at you for the phone thing, only Nini can, and she has said over and over again she’s completely past it.”

“I know, I know,” Gina sighs, dropping her head back on the couch and groaning, “God, it’s such a stupid thing to fight about! I was so proud of my little speech to him that day, but the more I think about it, the more things I feel like I forgot to say.” And it’s true, Gina will just randomly be struck with the thought, at any moment, of something she wants to say to him. Sometimes it’s another point she wanted to have made in their fight, other times there’s a song Ashlyn plays in the car that reminds her of him, or she crushes a biology test and wants to rub it in his face, or she just wants to text him at 1 in the morning like she used to. All of these things are coming to her, and it makes the silencing distance he’s put between them feel more suffocating every second she has to last in it.

“I know the feeling,” Carlos shakes his head, and clinks his spoon with Ashlyn’s across the couch like they’re champagne glasses, “If we were all Galleria, though, we could express ourselves perfectly through a bop of a song.”

Gina tries to look back that movie, but her mind is still racing, “He barely gave me the chance to explain myself then, and now he won’t even so much as _look_ at me!”

“Good, he doesn’t deserve you,” Carlos says, rubbing a hand on Gina’s shoulder, “But I know no amount of _Amigas Cheetahs_ and breakup ice cream will convince you to stop missing him though so…”

“Name a time and place and we will serenade any dumb white boy you need us to in our matching pajamas,” Kourtney joins Carlos in hugging Gina tight.

And maybe it’s all worth it just for this feeling, warmth and friendship wrapped up all around her.

“You know, the more I think about it, the better our fight would have been if we stuck to our musical roots and just screamed lyrics of _gotta Go My Own Way_ at each other,” Gina laughs.

“Oh my god, you did it,” Ashlyn says, “You actually created an image more terrifying than EJ singing his apology song to me.”

“What about my apology song?” All four head turn at the sound of a fifth voice coming from the foyer, back by the entrance to the living room, “No way, _Cheetah Girls_? Someone move over, I love this shit.”

“Hello to you too, EJ,” Ashlyn blinks, setting her ice cream down and scooting over on the couch, making a spot for him between her and Kourtney.

“Hey,” EJ settles into his seat and looks over at the rest of the couch’s occupants, “Why is the breakup ice cream out?”

“Mourning the almost-breakup of the most iconic girl group of our time,” Gina points towards the screen.

“Bummer, thought I was getting another opportunity to punch Bowen in the face,” he snickers, and leans back in his seat, draping one arm behind Kourtney on the top of the couch.

“Well, we’re out of ice cream,” Ashlyn says pointedly, “But if we weren’t, I’d keep it from you just for that comment alone.”

“Oh my god, you know I don’t actually mean it, he’s just easy to mess with,” EJ kicks his feet up on the coffee table, “When even _I_ think you’re being dramatic, there’s an issue. But seriously, no ice cream?”

“I have some of mine left,” Kourtney offers, holding her small container of ice cream out to the boy next to her, “All yours if you want it.”

“Seriously?” She nods, and he takes the offer gently, a soft smile on his face pointed directly at her, “Thanks, Kourt.”

“Well, I wouldn’t just hand over the world’s greatest ice cream flavor to anyone.”

“No way, this is my favorite flavor too,” EJ gasps, already digging in, but leaving his right arm draped behind Kourtney’s shoulders, “I’ve never— Ashlyn always calls me an old man for liking eating this.”

Gina doesn’t know how to stop the smile from taking over her face as she surveys the scene next to her, suddenly much more interesting than whatever is happening in the movie. She can practically hear Carlos and his rapid internal monologue.

“Are you seeing—”

“Yup, yeah, I’m seeing it,” Gina giggles to Carlos, but still watching her two friends. Ashlyn mumbles something snarky back to him and complains he’s taking up too much space on the couch and yeah, Gina will never get used to it.

She’s so glad she has friends to fill the silence, even just for a minute.

She’s texting Carlos about the latest updates on the Kourtney/EJ situation they’re all slowly becoming more aware of the Monday after movie night. Kourtney has roped Gina into helping her with some costumes after last period and before the start of rehearsal, because far be it from Kourtney to do anything less than the absolute most. She’s playing the lead and still wants to help with making costumes ( _like I trust anyone else to make me that iconic yellow dress_ , she had told Gina, blushing furiously after EJ agreed she’d make anything look good) so she found time between rehearsals to work on some things.

Gina was just sending Carlos these very important blushing updates when Kourtney slips a giant hoop skirt around her waist.

“I feel like a princess!” Gina giggles, already causing problems for Kourtney as she twirls around, watching the flimsy inner shell of what will be a giant yellow ball gown spin and bounce around her legs.

“If you would stand still I could make you feel like more of a princess,” Kourtney glares, but it doesn’t do much to quell Gina’s silly, giddy energy.

“You’re gonna look so good in this, Kourt,” Gina says, mesmerized by the yellow shimmering fabric that’s suddenly draped around her, “But I still think you’re crazy for this.”

“I was not letting Tanya touch this skirt,” Kourtney laughs, smoothing the ends of the fabric and marking where it hits the floor with a pen, “Say the word and I’ll hand Ricky’s costume over to her.”

“Even _you_ couldn’t save him from that costume!” Gina smiles, loving how much easier it’s getting to joke about this sort of thing, “He’s literally a clock, Kourt.”

“Well… _karma_ ,” she sighs, steps back to look at the skirt again, which just prompts Gina to do more twirls. “Oh my god, do you ever stand still?”

“I can’t help it!” Gina laughs and grabs Kourtney’s arm, spinning her around with her as the hoop bounces on her waist, “A dress this beautiful needs to be _twirled!”_

“Gina…” Kourtney warns, but her smile betrays her as she lets Gina hold her hands and dance her around the small costume room.

“Miss Jenn should have cast _me_ as the Beast understudy!” Gina laughs again, unimpeded and so carefree, and she wonders if what this is what people feel all the time. Gina has always marveled at the thought of having friends all in one place, but now that it’s real? Well, she just hugs Kourtney closer and listens to her laugh in her ear, “I’m a natural!”

“Giving EJ a run for his money,” Kourtney giggles, tripping over some discarded yellow fabric and catching herself on Gina’s arm.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be actually stealing the spot from your boy,” Gina says, a twinkle in her eye.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean, huh?” Kourtney balks with a laugh.

“Nothing, nothing,” Gina replies, faux innocence lacing her voice.

“Bullshit, what are you getting at, Porter?” But Kourtney is still laughing, dodging Gina’s mischievous gaze as she continues to pester her about her almost-maybe-crush and Gina is struck once again how nice it is to be here, feuding feelings and all.

After a few more minutes of teasing, Gina steps back and claps her hands under her chin, “I wanna be there the first time EJ sees you in this dress,” she rocks back on her heels and shows off the hoops skirt with a little shimmy, “Mostly so I can tease _him_ when I see him swoon when you…”

Kourtney steps back and gives Gina spot to do a full swirl, the skirt swinging around her arms up, her giggling infectious and—

Gina stops abruptly when she hears someone cough from the doorway.

Dancing around in an unfinished princess gown had left Gina breathless, but this, the way _he_ looks at her, from her toes up to her eyes, gaze lingering, quiet and gentle in a way she’d almost forgotten could affect her so much, is breathless in an entirely different way.

He clears his throat and it breaks the trance she’d slipped into, almost like a real princess, her skirt falling flat without motion, “Uh, sorry,” he mumbles, “Miss Jenn just said she wanted to start blocking a new scene, and she uh, needs at least one Belle.”

His nervous laugh falls flat, but he keeps staring at Gina.

“Oh right, sorry, didn’t realize the time,” Kourtney looks down at her wrist for a watch she doesn’t have, “Uh, I just gotta,” she gestures over towards Gina and her skirt situation, stepping forward to try to help her out of it.

“It’s really beautiful,” Ricky says, just above a whisper, finally turning his gaze from Gina to Kourtney, “The dress, it’s insane. You’re good at everything you touch.”

“Thanks, Ricky,” she smiles, genuinely, and Gina holds her breath. The charm on this boy, she swears.

“Don’t worry, I can get that,” He nods up at where Kourtney is trying to untie the skirt, “So you can go, head to rehearsal, leading lady.”

“Oh my god, thank you, I don’t know what I did to that knot,” Kourtney laughs nervously, “Thanks, I’m gonna go…”

“We’ll see you in there, Kourt,” Ricky finishes, waving Kourtney out of the room, luckily, so Gina doesn’t have to, not trusting herself to speak yet.

She hates the way he gets to her, still, after everything, how he’s always going to be her problem, she’s always going to care.

When he’s not facing the doorway anymore his back to her, Gina turns and glares at Kourtney. Her eyes are wide and apologetic and she mouths a dramatic apology and a wince, crossing her fingers for Gina’s good luck, then tucks out of the dressing room and down the hallway to the stage.

And then it’s just them. Ricky and Gina.

No one’s speaking still, because that’s what they’re doing now. As Ricky stands behind her and works on untying the skirt from her waist, Gina is reminded of all those things she wants to say to him.

The silence is crowded and noisy, full of too much.

She tries to focus on her breathing, keeping it steady, and nothing else. Not the feeling of his fingers on her waist, his quiet breaths she can feel on her neck, the way it would be so easy to spin in his arms and say everything she wants to, the right way this time, not angry and defensive.

He’s so close to her, right here, getting her out of this dress, and yet, she’s never felt more far away. That was always the one thing she thought she had, over everyone, even Nini. That she was close. That she got him.

But it’s silent. And he’s not sending her anything she can get.

With the waist of the skirt finally untied, it falls and collapses into a loop on the ground at her feet, and Ricky holds out one hand for Gina to hold and steady herself as she steps out of it. She catches her breath, but not before she’s sure a little gasp leaves her lips that Ricky can hear. She doesn’t know why this little thing is affecting her so much.

(A lie, again, she knows. Because there’s one clear reason why she cares, why she’ll always care.)

She hangs up the skirt where Kourtney had pulled it from before in the corner of the room, and is surprised to find Ricky waiting for her at the door.

They walk back together to the rehearsal room, their shoulders brushing every other step, but still not saying a word.

**_How I was losing my mind when I saw you here,_ **

**_But you held your pride like you should have held me_ **

The weeks trudge on and it’s getting easier to avoid him, but not any easier missing him.

She doesn’t know what she’d say to him, if the opportunity were to arise, probably something underwhelming and awkward.

Life carries on as usual, and if she didn’t tell her friends she and Ricky were fighting (fighting in silence, without any interaction whatsoever) they never would have come to the conclusion on their own. Everyone’s friends and everyone gets a long and she doesn’t let whatever is happening with her feelings get in the way of how good it is to be rooted in one spot with people who care about her, just like she promised herself when she started the semester after winter break.

She wishes things were different, but she’s resolved to being fine with the fact that they’re not. She doesn’t pay Ricky any more mind than she needs to, just enough to do scenes they’re in together and nothing more. She’s itching to know how he’s feeling, if he’s okay, if he misses Nini, how awful it is doing long-distance, if he’s heard from his mom and if he ever plans on visiting Chicago, if he’s glad he joined the musical and if he regrets any of the ways he’s avoided her the past month.

Even with all these ideas, she doesn’t know what she’d say to him, if the opportunity were to arise, probably something underwhelming and awkward.

She gets a chance to find out one Friday during rehearsals at the end of the month.

Kourtney had told her, given her a good heads up, that she was going to Denver to visit Nini one weekend, so she’d have to fill in as Belle for one rehearsal on a Friday afternoon. Gina laughs it off and makes a joke about having to dance with EJ and fearing she’ll break a toe trying to navigate around his two left feet.

EJ has been a surprising development during this whole mess, becoming an almost pseudo big-brother to her since opening night of the last show, someone who knows how to make her laugh and forget about her stupid fight/non-fight with Ricky.

“So, what do we got planned for today, Mr. Choreographer?” Gina hums, shrugging her backpack onto one shoulder and shutting her locker before starting to walk down the hallway with Carlos at her side.

Gina can see the physical effort it takes him not to squeal, “We’re doing the ballroom scene, I’m so excited it’s you. Honestly, you know I love Kourtney, but I have literally _dreamed_ about your waltz.”

“I’ve never waltzed in my life, Los.”

“Technicalities,” he waves her off, “We’re gonna block this thing so fast, I swear.”

“Too much faith in me, I’m still dancing with _EJ_ …”

“It’ll be fine,” Carlos laughs, “When I’m right and we get out of rehearsals early, you’re buying me dinner.”

She laughs and nods, agreeing because she knows she’d probably end up getting pizza with Ash and EJ after this anyway, so she might as well add Carlos (and Seb) to the tab. She lets the choreographer go when they step into the rehearsal room, running over to talk to Miss Jenn before everyone arrives, and Gina heads the other direction to drop her bag on a chair and change into different shoes.

She stretches out her legs on the floor in front of her, scrolling on her phone and looking up every few seconds, scanning the fast-filling room for EJ. It’s not like him to show up this late, and worried, she’s just about to text him when Miss Jenn claps her hands and quiets everyone down.

“Okay, everyone, we’re doing ‘Beauty and the Beast’ today,” she smiles, “Like, the song, not the show, but you knew that, obviously,” Gina quirks her head, smiling as her drama teacher clarifies, “Kourtney is out today so Gina is here to help us with some of the dance moves, and I was just informed that EJ went home sick after third period so Ricky’s gonna fill in for him.”

There’s just no way. No way.

Gina blinks from her spot in the corner of the room, frantically texting EJ:

**what did i say about getting sick**

**where are u**

**i have to slow dance with ricky if you don’t show up in the next thirty seconds**

**this better be a really elaborate prank as payback for not helping you with the dishes on wednesday**

**seriously caswell**

**help !!!!!**

****

She’s pulled away from her phone before she can send a glaring SOS or get any response from the senior, Carlos dragging her towards the center of the room. She skids to a stop when Carlos lets go of her arm, and almost bumps square into Ricky’s shoulder in the motion. He smiles down at her nervously, squeaks the sole of his shoe on the floor.

Gina doesn’t know why he’s here. He’s not _supposed_ to be here. Shouldn’t be in the state. She’d assumed he’d be making the trip with Kourtney to see his girlfriend, would be a pretty shitty move of him not to.

But here he is, standing next to her with an untied sneaker and clammy hands a nervous foot tap. She bites her bottom lip and huffs a loud a frustrated breath.

“Miss Jenn had to go…” Carlos waves, gestures in the direction of the door the teacher had just run out of, “I don’t know honestly, that woman is so flighty she makes birds jealous.” Carlos winces at his own terrible joke, the air so awkward already and they haven’t even turned to face each other yet. “So, you’re stuck with me, at least for the beginning of rehearsals. This shouldn’t be too hard, right, Gi?”

She swallows, “Right.”

“Perfect. Ricky, follow along, don’t step on her toes,” Carlos finishes with a bite, and Ricky sends him thumbs up before facing Gina. He holds one hand out.

“Get this over with?”

“Yeah,” she answers breathily, and holds his hand, doesn’t think about it too much.

It’s weird, Gina thinks, as she starts swaying them in their first waltzing rotation. She always felt so suffocated by her feelings for Ricky, and how she had to keep them all bottled up inside, and she was sure the day she finally let them out, told him everything, it’d feel freeing. But this is anything but. With it all out in the open, Gina feels worse than before, trapped and still struggling to breathe through her feelings for this dumb boy with the world’s most heart-stopping smile.

(Maybe, she thinks, just for a fleeting moment, that nothing’s changed because she still hasn’t told him _everything_. She’s left out one major detail.)

She’s glad they’re dancing. Singing she can hold her own, but so can Ricky. In dancing, she’s in control. It makes her feel a little better about the whole thing.

Carlos directs them through some of the motions, where he wants them to stand and how many steps it should take for them to get from one position to the next. She hates how nice Ricky smells, pulled close to her chest, the way she can hear him take a deep breath before he spins her around, the way he looks up at her under fluttered lashes when he bows at the start of the song, and gently places a kiss at the top of her hand.

Gina feels the frantic fairytale of it all, what she wants it to be, maybe, but no one else is. Suddenly the entire East High drama department is getting caught up on how painfully awkward Gina and Ricky are around each other. The more they move, the easier it is to mask. They can focus on the moves and not on each other. But there’s a lull in the song where they’re just slow dancing, and Gina can’t watch, but one look at Ashlyn’s face in the audience and she _knows_ it’s awful.

“What’s going on?” Carlos questions, pointing between them when Gina locks her elbows and holds Ricky at a full arms-length distance when she’d been specifically instructed to look like she’s been swept off her feet.

“Nothing,” Gina shakes her head, steeling herself to dive back in, but Ricky huffs, frustrated, in her face, and she’s sent reeling right back to the skatepark.

“Yeah, exactly, _nothing_ ,” Carlos sighs, “And _something_ should be happening. This is one of the biggest moments of the whole show, and I know you two aren’t going to be on stage, but you’re setting a precedent for not only yourselves, but the rest of this cast right now.”

Gina twists her lips, the sound of his words sour and unsettling. She knows Carlos knows why this is so awkward, knows he’s very clearly on her side, but she guesses show business is show business, no matter your feelings.

“Look, I’m not asking for anything revolutionary out of you two here, I know some of us are not capable of emotional depth,” he glares at Ricky when he says it, and it makes Gina feel just a bit better, “But you were given this responsibility for a reason. Prove it.”

Gina pulls Ricky just a step closer.

“We will stand here and watch you sway like idiots until it looks right, so help me,” Carlos taps his foot, still unimpressed, “We’re all taking five, except beauty and the beast here,” he points to the two understudies, “Don’t stop dancing when I leave. Maybe when I have caffeine in me I’ll be able to stomach whatever you two can manage to pull together.”

Carlos and the rest of the cast shift in their seats awkwardly and grab some of their things, rushing to get out of the awkward air as fast as possible, Gina faintly hearing Carlos say he’s a student choreographer, not a miracle worker. Rolling her eyes at her friend’s dramatics, she tries to muster as much professionalism as she can and focus on just making this dance look believable.

When the room’s empty and Gina is just a breath away from Ricky, she follows his eyes. He’s made it his mission, it seems, to look anywhere but her. He looks at her dress, her shoes, the mirror behind them and a chair to their left, above Gina’s head and on the pattern of her headband, anywhere but her eyes.

A beat. And another. And then: “Well, no sense standing her in silence. If we’re here we might as well talk about it.”

Gina bites back a scoff (or tries to, at least), “Funny,” she starts, “Since you made it pretty clear you never wanted to talk to me again.”

They lapse into silence again, swaying slowly, tensions rising but their steps coming more smoothly now that they’re talking.

“I didn’t wanna stop talking to you, by the way,” Gina offers, her train of thought taking on a life of its own, all these things she wanted to say to him and now she’s suddenly blanking on all of them, “Just so it’s clear I’m not the bad guy here. _You_ made this awkward.”

“Fair enough,” he says, eyes still averted, but his hands fidgeting nervously where they hold her waist, “I deserved that.”

No excuse. Gina is shocked.

“Why are you here?”

“You told me to audition,” Ricky says, an eyebrow raised.

“No, why aren’t you with Kourtney?” Gina clarifies, eyes running down, “Shouldn’t you be visiting Nini too?”

He shakes his head, almost steps on her foot, “I know I lost the right to this a while ago, but if it’s okay, I’d like to tell you something.”

Against her better judgement, she nods him on.

“I broke up with Nini,” and well, she wasn’t expecting that, “The day after auditions. Don’t worry, I wasn’t an asshole, didn’t do it on the phone. Got lucky and she hadn’t left town yet. I think it was a sign, or something.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” she says, voice laced with concern. She didn’t like the relationship, but breakups still suck.

“You couldn’t have, I didn’t tell you,” Ricky shakes his head, “It sucked. It sucked holding that in. And I realized how much it must have sucked for you to feel like there was so much you couldn’t tell me, or any of us, anyone you met because you moved around so much.”

Gina bites at her bottom lip nervously.

“That’s a very shitty apology of me, I know, but I get it, I shouldn’t have… I don’t know,” Ricky sighs, “I thought I’d know what to say to you. But I don’t. I thought it’d be easier because I wanna tell you everything, still, always. Just you.”

“Ricky…”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me anything, I know,” he continues, “I didn’t tell anyone about Nini, not even Red. I only wanted to tell you. I know you think I’m always gonna choose her but when I really thought about it, we were never actually choosing each other. It was a mess, it stopped working a long time ago and I suck at change.”

“Thank you for telling me that,” Gina says, and she means it. They’re words she’s always wanted to hear, and she was so afraid by the time she finally did, they’d be too broken for them to mean anything, to feel even a fraction as good as she’d always hoped they would. But here they are, in good time.

“I know I owe you a better explanation, preferably not when I’m using most of my focus to not break your toe,” he says, and wow, what a wonderful thing it is to giggle on the tip of Ricky’s nose again.

“You don’t have to say anything else,” Gina says softly, “I can tell you’re still mad at me.”

“I’m not,” he shakes his head, loops one arm out from around her back and tucks one rebel curl of her hair behind her ear, like instinct, “But you should still be mad at me.”

Gina smiles softly, settling her hands around his neck comfortably again, and shakes her head, “I’m about as terrible at staying mad at you as you are at dancing.”

The comment springs the most joyous laugh from his lips, loud and unbridled and wonderful, lights up his whole face and hers in the process, swings her closer to his body in the twirl, like maybe they aren’t playing a part anymore.

Carlos walks back in just as it happens, “Perfect, that’s exactly what I meant.”

Caught in the act, Gina slips out of Ricky’s embrace, and shakes out her nerves.

“Let’s take it from the top lovebirds, tale as old as time!”

And then finally, Gina _breathes._

**_So many things that I wish you knew,_ **

**_So many walls up I can't break through_ **

It’s been two weeks since the great waltz of 2020, and Gina didn’t know she could get happier here. Things with Ricky and Gina aren’t perfect, sure, but they’re really trying, and Gina likes this new normal. When she had stumbled into her friendship with him at the beginning of the year, it always felt like Gina was waiting for Ricky to catch up to her.

But they both jump in together this time.

Things at home are good, things at school are good, things with her mom are good, and now things with Ricky line right up with it all, and Gina couldn’t be happier.

Once the floodgates open, there’s no stopping them. She’s right back to wanting to tell him everything and there’s nothing in her way this time. She texts him in the morning, between classes, _in_ classes, after classes, before dinner, while she’s brushing her teeth, until she falls asleep, screen flopping onto her pillow when she can’t keep her eyes open anymore. They have so much to catch up on, and it feels so great to have this ease back.

You can imagine everyone’s surprise when they found the once silent pair suddenly loud and laughing with each other across the rehearsal room, the Monday EJ and Kourtney got back, somewhat unproductive between all their teasing and dancing around each other while they demonstrated the routine they’d blocked the Friday the two leads were out. But with Gina and Ricky settled into the new normal, almost everyone was more than happy to settle into the infectious joy too ( _almost_ , because EJ wasn’t entirely convinced he shouldn’t still punch the junior square in the face.)

It starts with just hanging out at school, then she turns down a ride home with EJ and wobbles on the end of Ricky’s skateboard as they make their way to the park, and suddenly Gina’s pulling him into Ashlyn’s house, watching him fight for a spot on the couch for movie night and hoping her heart still knows how to fit inside her chest.

Her feelings for Ricky never really went away, she knows, but they’re making themselves very well-known now.

(When he flops his head over the end of the couch and passes his delayed breakup ice cream to Gina, she has to physically clutch a hand to her chest.)

But she’s an actress, you know, she’s got it covered.

Her skills are tested one snowy afternoon, no rehearsal time to buffer her feelings. When it starts to snow at the end of last period, Miss Jenn cancels rehearsals and tells everyone to go home and run their lines in front of the fireplace with a nice mug of hot chocolate.

She’s gathering her things back in her bag and getting ready to leave, spotting EJ talking to some people by the door and Ashlyn probably not far behind.

“I think if my dad has to hear my terrible Cogsworth accent anymore, he’ll actually lock me out of the house,” Ricky takes a seat next to her, dropping her second dance shoe into her bag for her, and she laughs.

“Funny you think it’s just your dad,” she smiles, “We’re all thinking it.”

“You wound me, Gi,” he holds a hand to his heart, and Gina is lucky she doesn’t mirror the motion when she watches his curls flop over his forehead.

“Try not to lose sleep over it,” she pats him on the shoulder and uses a free hand to pull him up to standing with her, aware of how close it brings their bodies, “I love your dad though, wanna switch places?”

“And be there for Ashlyn and Red’s snow day date?” he shakes his head, nose scrunched, “No thanks.”

“He’s coming over?”

“Yeah, can you believe this guy? You get a girlfriend and suddenly the sacred snow day tradition of staying up all night in your basement going down a black hole of YouTube videos with your best friend suddenly means nothing!”

“Seriously? How old are you guys?”

“Physically 17, but mentally…” Ricky trails off, tilting his head in thought as they head towards the rehearsal room door, “I’d say 12, to be safe.”

Gina laughs, “You never ditched him?”

“Nini knew the rules!” Ricky brags, and Gina feels something pull in her stomach. But he seems unbothered, like she really is behind him, “I’m entrusting you to teach them to Ashlyn. She gets a free pass today, but…”

“I don’t blame Red, honestly,” Gina smirks, “Being trapped in a house with you all night?”

“Take that back right now, Gina!”

“I’m serious, you’re so dramatic, you can’t cook, you always smell like fabric softener—”

“Would you rather smell my smelly armpits?” Ricky laughs, wiggling his eyebrows, “Plus, it’s not my fault. My dad and I are just getting the hang of doing the laundry. I always mess up when I have to pour the detergent in.”

“Mike Bowen deserves better,” Gina shakes her head, “I’m still willing to switch places with you, you know.”

“Think you could be the better Bowen?”

“Know it,” she challenges, sticking her tongue out playfully, heading down the hallway towards the entrance of the school.

“Okay, prove it then,” Ricky stops, turns to face her, stopping in place and waiting for Gina to realize, “Come be a Bowen for the night.”

“What?” Gina turns and faces him, a few steps ahead.

“Come home with me,” he fidgets with the strap of his backpack as he tries to read her facial expression, “We’ll make a new snow day tradition.”

And well, there’s a lot of things this idea sounds like to Gina. Dangerous floats to the top of the list.

It sounds absolutely dangerous, really. The thought of spending the entire night in a small house, just her and Ricky (and his dad) with no escape until the snow settled… The fact that he cannot cook and his room’s probably a mess and she won’t get any homework done and he’ll make her watch really awful YouTube videos—all bad, but not the real issue. All Gina can think about is what it will be like to be alone with Ricky, nothing in her way this time.

She mulls over it, taps her foot fast and nervous, tries to convince herself this is such a bad idea—

“For the record, I’m agreeing to this for Mike, not for you.”

“Ah! Yes, yes!” Ricky surges forward, closing the distance between them and pulling Gina to his side, one arm around her shoulder, “You won’t regret this, Gina!”

“I highly doubt that,” she winces playfully, her stomach doing flips as he pushes the door open.

They trip over each other’s feet, running through the parking lot, dodging as much snow as they can, huddled under each other’s jackets, mixed up in each other’s breathy laughs.

“Since Red’s going home with Ash…” Ricky tucks away from Gina just for a moment, pulling keys out of his pocket and shaking them above his head to show them off, “ _We_ got the keys to the orange buggy.”

“No! No, I take it back,” Gina skids to a stop, “I am not getting in the clown mobile again.”

“Well it’s either the clown mobile, or ginger love fest…” Ricky points, tossing the keys into his right hand and reaching for the driver side door, “Up to you, Ginarina.”

It’s a dumb nickname, but god, if she doesn’t melt all the freezing snow beneath her feet right there, “Lemme text them where I disappeared to, then we can go.”

Smiling ear to ear with that answer, Ricky slips into the bright car and turns the key, the engine sputtering to life. Gina ignores all the winky faces Ashlyn texts her back after she says she’s going home with Ricky, then follows suit and ducks into the passenger seat. She’s acutely aware of Ricky’s eyes on her as she sends a few last texts, silence washing over them in the small car, but a comfortable one, filled with warmth and something bubbling under the surface. She drops her phone in her lap once she’s endured enough teasing from the Caswells, and echoes a smile she’ll never get used to wearing so freely around Ricky.

“We just gonna sit here, in the East High parking lot?”

“If that’s what you wanna do,” Ricky shrugs, his eyes twinkling, “You look nice with the snow in your hair.”

The afterthought from him makes Gina blush, and she’s not proud, but tries to mask it, “I hope I look better than you do right now.” She tries to shake the snow out of her hair, quirks a smile and runs one hand through Ricky’s.

“You always look better than me,” Ricky says, like it’s fact, then pulls out of the parking spot, “Also, I know you’re only coming for Mike Bowen, but he works late on Wednesdays, so…”

“How conveniently you held that information until I was already in the car!” Gina scoffs, sinking back into her seat as they hit the road, “Unbelievable.”

“Hope you like frozen pizza, because that’s a) all we have in my house right now probably and b) all I can cook for you.”

“Do you understand why I really considered turning you down?” She laughs, “You’re impossible to spend time with.”

“Well, that’s not true,” Ricky points, “You _can_ spend time with me, it’s just—”

“Like hanging out with a preschooler.”

“I was thinking like, Kindergarten?”

“Okay, Troy Bolton.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles, then nods down, “Put some music on, Taylor.”

“I don’t think Taylor would play music in the car, if we’re being technical, here,” Gina says, but picks up the aux cord anyway, “She’d pull out some decathlon flashcards and make everyone practice.”

“You know, you’re pretty impossible to spend time with too.”

“You _asked me_ to come!”

“I did,” Ricky chuckles, just as Gina settles on a playlist, “I like impossible.”

When they finally get to Ricky’s, they stand outside the front door for a whole five minutes while Ricky struggles to find his keys (however he says it was all part of a plan just to get more snowflakes in Gina’s hair, and he snaps a picture as she pouts outside the door before pulling her in with him), and then start trying to figure out something Ricky can make without burning the house down. This proves a challenge, as Gina stares at Ricky’s pantry, listing off items, each one more flammable to Ricky than the last. ( _You’re so lucky I’m here_ , she brags, flipping open the YouTube app on her phone, _I’ve gotten pretty good at this over the years.)_ She finds something to make them, but Ricky gets distracted by a video suggestion below it for “8 THINGS YOU SHOULD TOTALLY MICROWAVE” and suddenly is begging Gina to see what happens if they stick a box of crayons in his microwave. ( _Oh my god, Gi,_ he bounces on his toes across the kitchen island, _this guy microwaved… a microwave!)_

About 7 regretful videos later and melted chocolate smeared on both their faces (and clothes), they settle on a nutritious meal of a bag of chips, or half a bag, as Ricky has decided to toss the chips across the kitchen and make Gina try to catch them, and well, she’s coordinated but his smile throws her whole world off balance, and she loses every other chip to the kitchen floor.

“Date night not sounding so bad, after this!” Gina yells, as Ricky pulls her up the stairs and towards his room to replace her chocolate stained sweater.

“Oh, you’re so dramatic, you just won’t admit you actually had fun!” Ricky giggles, hopping up the last few stairs and squeezing Gina’s hand.

“Yeah, but do you know how embarrassing all my recommended videos are gonna be from now on, thanks to your antics?” She squeezes his hand back, “At least ginger central would have fed me real food, not a microwaved Hershey bar still stuck to the wrapper.”

“You forget so easily that Red is my best friend,” Ricky smirks, “We share a braincell.”

“That’s frightening.”

“And yet, you and Ashlyn still _choose_ to spend time with us!” Ricky pushes his bedroom door open and Gina holds herself in the doorway. She’s not sure if it’s the thought of being alone in Ricky’s room all of a sudden, or the way he so casually compared Red and Ash to… whatever is going on with them and that implication is heart-attack inducing. Or maybe it’s something else entirely, something about the way it all feels so teen romance all of a sudden, just like it did a few months ago. How even after everything, Gina still, without a second thought, would grab him by the curls and—

“How’s this one?” Ricky’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and she gingerly steps into the room, looking at the red and white East High hoodie he holds out to her, “It’s really comfy, so, don’t get any ideas.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” Gina smirks, slipping the hoodie on over her head, then audibly sighing, “Oh yeah no, I’m keeping this.”

“Hey! I said—”

“I know what you said, but, I’m pretty sure you owe me,” she narrows her eyes, pulling the long sleeves down over her fingers, “Shouldn’t have handed off your best sweatshirt, Rick!”

“Did you want this one instead?” He turns around from his closet, and shows off a bright green and black tie-dye sweatshirt with a skateboard on the front that looks 4 sizes too small.

Gina claps a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh, “Oh my god, what is that?”

“Big Red and I went to skate camp in fourth grade,” Ricky brags over his embarrassment, “I won skater of the week, so, I don’t know, Gi, you’re kind of in the presence of a legend.”

“Oh, excuse me,” she faux curtsies, before slipping up next to him to take a look into his closet for more blackmail, “Anything else worth guilting you into letting me steal?”

“I’m getting that sweatshirt back,” he warns, but she waves him off, eyes scanning the rows of hanger and piles of dirty closes on the floor.

She bends down when she spots something in the corner of the closet, “What’s this?”

“What’s what?” Ricky asks, distracted, not really looking at her as he busies himself with hiding the rest of his East High hoodies.

Gina turns to face him and holds her finding up. It’s a scarf, she thinks, pink and blue, the yarn sticking out at odd ends, obviously handmade (and rather poorly made, at that). She unrolls it and watches it fall to just above her toes, scanning up and down, and almost missing the bright blush that crowds Ricky’s cheeks before he quickly tries to grab the knitting away from her.

“Oh, that’s nothing—”

“Ricky?”

“It’s… I thought I hid that better,” he’s almost as red as her hoodie now, and in her stupor of watching him flush, he manages to get a hold of it, “If I tell you, you can’t laugh.”

And there’s room for a jab in there, but his eyes are so wide she lets it go, “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“It’s uh, I made it for you, for Christmas,” he starts after her encouragement, “Never got to give it to you though, after… you know… everything.”

Gina’s heart lurches. Why the fuck did this loser who wants to melt household objects in his microwave have to turn around and be so soft? Why did he have to have this crazy grip on her?

While she waits for him to continue, she grabs at the other end of the scarf, and feels the soft fabric between her fingers.

“I went to visit my mom for Christmas, and was bored out of my mind in her small apartment with Todd, so I pulled up YouTube and, you know, figured I’d give it a try,” he looks down, nervously, “Heard it was good for lonely people in houses that didn’t really feel like home.”

“Can I try it on?”

“Gina, you don’t—”

“I wanna try it on!” She says, lifting his chin so he can see her smile, not dropping her hand from his face as she uses the other to drape the misshapen scarf over her shoulders.

“It’s terrible.”

“It’s not!” She assures him, adjusting it around her neck.

“It was supposed to be a hat, like the one you made me, but, that was actually impossible. I don’t know how you did that,” Ricky scoffs, shaking his head, “Also the colors were ugly, but that’s all we had. Apparently, Todd’s sister just had a baby or something…” Ricky trails off, pushing the baby pink and blue ends of the scarf up on Gina’s shoulders, “It was never supposed to see the light of day, really.”

“Well, I’m glad it did,” Gina smiles, “I can use it when I get sick of you here and have to walk back home in the snow.”

He pushes her a little, teasingly, then bends down into the closet where she’d pulled the scarf from, and grabs a familiar hat.

“Yeah, you can really tell these were both made by amateurs following YouTube videos,” Ricky tosses the hat between his hands, and stares incredulously, “Seriously, Gina, this is some professional shit. Where do you get all this talent from?”

“Probably have just saved all my braincells by staying away from destroying things in microwaves,” Gina giggles.

“You know, _my_ YouTube recommendations were filled with knitting videos for _weeks,_ so,” Ricky smirks, “This was really just payback.”

“Yeah, sure,” she rolls her eyes and takes the hat from Ricky, holds it up and pulls it down on top of his curls. “What do you think? Still too big?”

He grins at her, kind of lopsided in that adorable way he shouldn’t be allowed to do, directed solely at her, because it makes her heart speed into overdrive and forget all logic. What a mess, she thinks, not about his microwave or the chocolate on her shirt, or the scarf that’s already unraveling or the snowflakes melted in their hair. No, the real mess was this, this pull she had towards Ricky, just him, always. She’d always care, and it made a mess of everything Gina ever thought she knew. But god, one more smile like that, and she knows she wouldn’t ever wanna clean it up.

Mess up her whole life, Bowen, it was always yours to mess with anyway.

“Yeah, sure,” she rolls her eyes and takes the hat from Ricky, holds it up and pulls it down on top of his curls. “What do you think? Still too big?”

“Nope,” Ricky smiles, pulling the strings down tighter, the end of the hat falling over his forehead, his curls sticking out haphazardly, “It’s a perfect fit.”

She’s not sure what really prompts it, she’s never felt this brave before in her life, but suddenly, she wants nothing more than to hold him, and so, she does.

She reaches up on her tippy toes, flings her arms around his neck and hugs him. His chest lined up with hers, she hopes he isn’t aware of what affect he has on her heartbeat. If he is, he doesn’t show it, his arms almost immediately coming around her waist and holding her impossibly closer, his breath tickling the fuzzy scarf on her neck. She’s reaching up so high, with so much energy, she sways a little on her toes. And because he’s a mess, _they’re_ a mess, he doesn’t balance her, or hold her upright. He just sways on his feet with her, calm and soothing even if it is off-kilter. It works. She’s warm and fuzzy and his nails trace patterns she can feel through her (his) sweatshirt.

“I missed you,” she admits in a whisper, for the first time since they’ve started speaking again.

She says it so lightly she doesn’t think he hears it, but maybe he does, because he squeezes her tighter, with a happy little sigh, and drops a kiss on her shoulder.

She’s feeling so safe there, that she almost spills, tells him that last little part of everything. That yeah, she missed him, and yeah, she loves him too. Always did. Still does.

“Ricky! I’m home!”

Ricky’s dad yells from the first floor, and so she doesn’t say anything.

“ _What happened_ in here?” Gina giggles next to Ricky’s ear when they hear his dad find their mess in the kitchen, “Did you feed Gina… _marshmallows_ for dinner?”

She unwraps herself from his arms, and unwraps the scarf from her neck, but Ricky pulls the hat on his head tighter, and runs out of his room, already trying to explain to his dad what happened with everything they left around the kitchen, even though Mike is not having the excuses and says he’s lucky he brought home pizza (he says Ricky can’t have any, for being a bad host to their guest, and makes him sit and watch while he and Gina enjoy their first slice alone, it makes Gina too ridiculously giddy).

And so, maybe, Gina thinks, she’ll tell him soon.

**_Oh, I'm scared to see the ending,_ **

**_Why are we pretending this is nothing?_ **

“You guys, I’m serious, he’s—”

“Your boyfriend!”

“He’s not,” Gina’s about ready to strangle someone, but her seatbelt snaps her back into her seat, fuming, “You don’t _understand_.”

“No one understands this situation _less_ than _you do_ , honey,” Carlos snaps from his seat in the front on the passenger side, sipping an iced coffee triumphantly, like he’s winning this battle. Gina knows, based on how many times they’ve had _this battle_ , he will win. But she is nothing if not persistent.

“You guys were ready to murder him for me like, a month ago!” Gina yells.

“And they were ready to murder me during the last musical,” EJ smirks up at her as he drives, “We love a good comeback story.”

“For the record, _I_ never wanted to murder him,” Red chimes in on the opposite end of the backseat, Ashlyn between him and Gina, and his smirk sends Gina into her seventeenth heart attack of the night. Ashlyn squeezes her arm reassuringly, but it’s evident this is a 4 v. 1 face-off. As per usual.

“You should talk to him, Gina. We can sit here and speculate all day, but I think just being honest is the best option.”

“EJ with the good advice!”

“One more comment and I will slap that coffee out of your hand, Los.”

“ _Please_ , like you’d willingly risk the coffee stains on Elsa!”

“Can we discuss how EJ named his car after a Disney princess…”

“ _Into the Unknown_ just _speaks_ to me, okay?”

“No! No, we’re getting off topic!” Carlos yelps again, placing one hand on the headrest of his seat and twisting to lock eyes with Gina, “This is an intervention.”

“I don’t need an intervention,” she grumbles, her curls pressed up against the glass of the window, “We’re friends, _best_ friends.”

“When we said we were excited for you two to finally kiss and make-up…”

“Oh my god, gross, stop, she’s like my little sister!”

“You guys have been dancing around this for way too long,” Ashlyn giggles, and Red nods beside her. “We all thought it was gonna happen last year, before Ricky decided to go on that Nini detour.”

“But now everyone’s single and aware of their flirting, so there’s no reason for this drama anymore,” Carlos sighs, “Plus, Seb and I wanna go on a double date!”

“We can go on a double date without him being my… like… _you know_ …”

“She can’t even say the word!”

“Intervention!”

“Gina, it’s really not a big deal, I think he thinks—” Red starts, but Gina’s still fighting it.

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks, _I_ don’t wanna make things _weird_!”

“Fine, fine,” EJ coos, the car slowing to a stop at a red light, looking at Gina in his rearview mirror, “Collect your thoughts with a soothing round of Idina Menzel’s vocals, and we’ll try again after.”

“They let you wear a Varsity jacket when you are this much of a _dork_?”

“Carlos, what did I say about the coffee?”

So here’s the 3 minute summary:

Gina is in _so deep_.

There are just no words to describe whatever her relationship is with Ricky Bowen is right now.

Friends isn’t enough and Boyfriend is too much and it’s just… the whole thing is… _so much_. She is in _deep_.

As much as she fights her friends on it, the flirting has gotten ridiculously out of control, anything but subtle, and Gina has danced around her feelings as only a trained dancer could do ever since they made up.

There’re just no words for it. Literally. Gina has _no idea what they are_.

And, not to be That Person, but Gina still feels kinda like the little new kid. Sure, she’s had plenty of time to adjust to the way her feelings for him overwhelm her, overflow and barely fit inside. She’s come to terms with it, accepted her doomed fate of loving him, yeah. But with every flirty glance and teasing giggle, she gets a little hopeful. And then she remembers that she’s a year younger than him, and she is immensely insecure about how out of her league he is, so she doesn’t wanna be _even less cool_ by screwing it up and admitting she does not know what to do about this whole thing.

It’s shit logic. She knows. Because she’s basically being handed everything she has wanted since she started pining over him, staring longingly from Ashlyn’s couch at the cast party. But she has actively avoided her entire life. She’s never known a period of not-change. So maybe this thing with Ricky could _not-change_ for once if she just, doesn’t bring it up?

It’s fine. Really. They spend almost every day together so it’s not like she has to worry about someone else in the picture. The only people who ask about labels are her _ridiculously intense_ (but oh-so- _wonderful_ ) gang of best friends, currently present in EJ’s car. And whenever she is with him she is nothing but _giddy_. It’s not like she has anything to complain about.

She’s snapped out of her thoughts by EJ belting out one very loud and very long note of the Disney musical tune, and Carlos looks back at her again.

“Wouldn’t it be nice for both of us to start junior year with boyfriends?”

“Excuse me, _three of us_ ,” Ashlyn laughs, leaning up on her seat towards Carlos.

“He is my friend that is a boy,” Gina states simply, still fighting to _actively avoid_.

“Yeah, he’s my friend that is a boy too, but something feels different about it,” Red points.

“I wish _my_ friends that are boys looked at me like that.”

“I’m telling Seb!”

“Look, I’ve just, never really had a, like, you know…” Gina starts, squirming in her seat.

“A boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” she nods, not saying the word, “But I’ve also never even been like, this… _affectionate_ with anyone, or even like, _at all_ , so how am I supposed to know if this is normal or if it’s—”

“Boyfriend stuff?”

“Exactly!”

Ashlyn is hugging Gina’s free arm immediately, chin tucked on top of her shoulder, “Do you want to borrow my crystals for tonight?”

Gina drops her head to rest on top of Ashlyn’s, and she’s also actively avoiding how clearly different (and easy) it is to be affectionate with her best friend, and how that probably means Ricky is not. Her best friend, that is. Gina slouches into the comfort anyway.

“Can’t believe Gina’s ditching us for a _boy!_ ”

“Friend who is a boy,” EJ teases, and Gina sticks her tongue out at him.

“Spending the last day of spring break without us,” Carlos throws a hand to his heart dramatically, “They grow up so fast.”

Gina had spent most of the afternoon hanging out with the group. The original plan was to go back to Ashlyn’s after lunch, but Ricky had been trying to convince her to have a wild, last-night-of-break sleepover for weeks, to make up for the fact that he’d just invented their new snow day tradition and then they didn’t have any more snow days. She had finally given in. Her friends were more than happy to drop her off at his house, but not before they got through their intense round of b-word questioning.

“If you don’t make a move tonight, I won’t bring you a coffee tomorrow morning.”

“That’s a terrible threat, because her _friend who is a boy_ is obviously gonna get her one on their way to school tomorrow morning,” Red laughs, and Gina only doesn’t punch him because Ashlyn’s still cuddling her punching arm.

“I am _not_ going to miss seeing you all at eight in the morning next year,” EJ says, turning the corner into Ricky’s development.

“Forget Gina, I can’t believe _EJ’s_ ditching us for _college_!”

“Gina, promise you’re not gonna ditch us this entire summer to hang out with your boyfriend,” Carlos teases her again, and Gina scoffs.

“If you didn’t want me to go today you could have just said!”

“No, no, we are very invested in this relationship,” he nods again, his eyes bright, “We are all in the _drama_ club for a reason.”

“I hated that.”

“If I say I’ll ask him about it tonight, will you not make a big deal when we pull into his driveway?” Gina concedes, not totally meaning it, but not denying that it _would_ be nice.

“Gina’s gonna pop the question!”

“2020, baby!”

“Shut up, you cannot make this a big deal,” Gina feels her cheeks flush, the whole car abuzz with her revelation, “And I’m only asking if it like, comes up. Naturally. In conversation.”

“Gina, I’m telling you, as his best friend, I think he already thinks—”

“Speak of the devil,” Carlos yells, cutting Red off mid-sentence to roll down his window as EJ pulls his car into Ricky’s driveway. The man in question rolls up behind them on his skateboard, flipping his helmet off and shaking his loose curls.

“Should I be offended I wasn’t invited?” Ricky leans his elbows on the edge of the open window, peeking in and smiling brightly at all the passengers.

“Should _we_ be offended, sleepover boy?”

“Love you too, Carlos,” Ricky laughs.

“Yeah, yeah, I _believe_ we have something that belongs to you,” Carlos hums, turning his head to face the back seat.

Gina’s already got one hand on the door handle, ready to get out of this interrogation car, when Ricky catches her eye, almost like he’s caught off guard even though he _knows_ she’s here for him. Ricky almost always looks at her like that, kinda bewildered and glowing, and messy, or at least, it makes Gina feel messy. Like every time he sees her is the first time.

She watches his chest rise and fall as he sighs from his spot on the window, “Hey, Gina.”

“And Ashlyn, and Red, and EJ!” Red fills in, leaning up from his seat towards the brunette.

Gina pretends not to hear EJ’s teasing whisper to Ricky, “You’re in _deep_ , man.”

The door at Gina’s side clicks open, and she grabs her bag at her feet before hopping out onto the paved driveway, already giddy and buzzing before she’s even said a word to him. Does EJ know how _deep_ she is, too?

“You two better not be late tomorrow!”

“Yes, sir,” Ricky salutes, ducking his head out the window as Gina rounds out from the other side of the car, and with a knowing smirk, he adds, “Rehearsal before school at 9, right? Or is it 9:30?”

“Lord, give me strength.”

“We will see you at _8_ ,” Gina smiles, as she reaches Ricky, her hip bumping his so she can see into the car, “And we’ll bring coffee.”

“What?” Ricky gasps, “When did we agree to that?”

“I owe them one,” Gina says, smiling, and only Carlos catches on, squealing in his seat.

“Okay, _bye_ , lovebirds,” he sing-songs, starting to put his window back up, and Gina laughs, her hand swinging at her side and almost grabbing Ricky’s out of habit.

He picks up his skateboard, tucks it under one arm, and takes a step back, Gina following suit.

Ricky cheesily waves the car down the driveway, like a cartoon character, which only makes Gina giddier, her laugh bubbling up.

“Oh man, they are a handful,” Ricky says through a toothy smile, as EJ’s car backs up the last inch before turning out.

“ _You’re_ a handful.”

“You can go get back in the car, you know.”

“Oh, too late, looks like they’re gone,” Gina pretends to lament the loss, slings her bag over one shoulder, looking up at Ricky, who’s started walking backwards towards his front door.

“Oh, they’re gone? That’s terrible,” he says, but his smile indicates it’s anything but, as he swoops down and pulls Gina to his chest in a tight, quick hug, “Couldn’t do that when they were still here. I’m not going to be responsible for Carlos having another aneurysm.”

“Wise beyond his years, East High junior Ricky Bowen,” she hums.

“Shut up,” he says, his eyes hooded but Gina still catches the way they sparkle.

She’s _so_ deep.

He uses his free hand to grab one of hers, tugging her towards his front door, Gina’s eyes still shut and her brain still in that fuzzy dream state she can’t fight off whenever he’s near her.

“Trying not to give my dad an aneurysm either,” he laughs, hopping up the small step on his porch.

“He’s letting me sleep over…”

“Because he _loves_ you,” Ricky states, and it makes Gina’s stomach somersault, “But I _meant,_ I was supposed to wash the dishes before he got home from work, so, we gotta go do that.”

“On second thought, if I start running now, I could _probably_ catch them…” Gina looks back at the street as she says it, and is quick to feel the arm that snakes around her waist.

“Not before I catch _you_!” Ricky yells, and she squeals as she’s hugged to Ricky’s chest, her feet lifting off the ground. She inhales, her nose pressed into the crook of his neck and her bag slipping off one shoulder as Ricky swings her up and onto his porch in front of the door.

Her heart is beating against his chest until he slips away to unlock the door, and it’s such a blissful feeling, thinking about washing dishes with this boy, which is so mundane and awful that she knows she has no choice but to commit at this point.

It’s a little later into the night, dishes washed and aneurysms avoided, that Gina’s laying on Ricky’s bed, her head hanging off one end and her knees bent up, her socked toes knocking against Ricky’s next to her. He’s a head taller than her standing and so, where his head falls off the end of the bed, he catches some of her curls in his face, and complains about how they tickle the bridge of his nose, but never once makes a motion to move. (It’s adorable, and you can quote her on that.)

“Ricky, all the blood is gonna rush to your head.”

“Awesome!”

“Not awesome,” she goes to swat him aver his abs, but ends up leaving her hand there, scrunching up the loose t-shirt material absentmindedly with her fingers, “I’d like to show up to school with you in one piece tomorrow.”

“How dare you say the s-word!”

“Has anyone reminded you that you’re literally a twelve-year-old yet today?”

“Nope, thank you for the reminder, Miss Porter.”

“Happy to be of service,” she banters, and she’s fiddled with his shirt enough that the hem is up and she can see the waistband of his gray sweatpants and _holy shit_. She squeezes her eyes shut before dropping her drumming fingers and turning her head to face him, nose to nose, “Can we sit up now?”

With a low grunt Ricky sits up, shaking his floppy curls and bright red cheeks. She follows suit, only after he slips his fingers between hers and tugs, her heart flying right with it.

“You hungry?”

“I feel like you want me to say yes just so I cook you something.”

“Well I mean, that wouldn’t be the _worst_ plan in the world…” he wiggles his eyebrows and Gina’s insides flip in on themselves while he continues, “I bought that chocolate chip cookie mix you told me you liked.”

“The bribery!”

“Dad’s already bringing home take-out of your choice,” he pleads, “Let me have this.”

She bites the inside of her cheek from squealing something embarrassing about how weak those puppy dog eyes make her, and kicks at the blanket skirting the floor of the bed, “Maybe I liked you better when you weren’t speaking to me.”

“Are you sure you weren’t put on this earth with the sole purpose of trying to get me to ugly cry?” He hops from the bed in his mock offense, and she laughs at his serious tone, swings her feet off the opposite end of the bed, kicking him in the shin lightly where he’s pacing.

Gina feels tingly all over. He’s doing the absolute bare minimum and yet.

He’s so. Gosh darn. CUTE!

How the hell did she end up here?

She pretends to ponder his request for a minute, teasing him, even though she’s known since the moment the question moved on his lips that she was gonna do anything he asked.

He runs across his room and knocks his knees against hers, where she sits. He’s always got the edge on her, but from this angle he towers, and his abs are eye level and it’s _distracting her_ from the task at hand. Which is to get him to drop this elaborately cheesy but very on-brand Ricky Bowen scheme. And totally not to pull him down by the collar and kiss the smirk off his face. Totally. Of course. Not.

Just a breath away from Gina giving in and saying fuck it, and kissing him right where they are and worrying about the consequences of such a reckless action later, Ricky suddenly gets that mischievous smirk and hops to lay across the bed again.

“I’m gonna let the blood rush to my head until you agree!” Ricky screeches, launching his body across his long bed, shaking the mattress with a bounce as he flops back into the position from before, his head upside down over the edge.

Gina shakes her head, eyes still shut, and a laugh echoing from her lips.

She’s like, in _love_ love.

“You know, you being this stubborn kind of makes you have the personality of a twelve-year-old too,” he mocks, kicking her hip with his right foot, before she crawls across the bed. She lands with one elbow on his chest, chin in hand looking down on him.

She’s so dizzy she doesn’t know how Ricky can stand it, hanging there like he is.

“You’re impossible, have I reminded you of that yet today?”

“Yes,” He says lightly, “But it’s okay, I’ve just accepted that’s your very special way of showing you care about me.”

“Is that so?”

He nods.

“Well then I guess I should let you know,” she smiles down at him, “You’re the most impossible boy I’ve ever known.”

The room gets quiet as they lay there, sideways on Ricky’s unmade bed (that also smells overwhelmingly of their brand of fabric softener), just staring at each other, Gina hoping her smile doesn’t give away how that might be the understatement of the century, how much she cares about him.

“Gina, not to be a buzzkill in this very nice moment we’re having, but I’m gonna need you to hurry up and agree to make me my cookies so I can stop trying to make a point hanging here getting a headache.”

She pulls him up by the collar of his shirt and agrees.

Once they’re downstairs, Gina takes charge on the cookie initiative, Ricky remaining relatively unhelpful in the process, but his presence being a welcome one. It’s a store-bought mix that she’s never seen before (he meant well), so it isn’t too hard to do in her distracted state. She pours the mix into a bowl, cracks an egg, and trusts Ricky to not mess up simply getting her a half a cup of water, then stirs in the butter with a bit of elbow grease.

“I see you inching your hands closer and closer to this bowl,” Gina eyes him, spoon in hand as he realizes he’s been caught in the act, “You’re not eating this dough.”

“You’re no fun,” He sighs, “You didn’t let me help make the dough, now you won’t let me eat it—”

“Find something you’d be useful for here, and I’ll let you do it,” she flips her hair over one shoulder and starts to spoon the mixture onto the cookie tray.

“You don’t think I’m good at anything though, that’s the problem,” he counters.

“That’s not true,” she says, “I think you’re good at lots of things.”

“Pfft,” he scoffs, “Name one.”

“Surprisingly, I think you’re good at math homework,” she starts, dropping another spoonful of dough onto the tray, not looking at Ricky, “You’re good at skating, much better than me.”

“Well, that’s not hard…”

She’d throw the spoon at him if she didn’t still need it for two more cookies, “I also think you’re good at being a nuisance,” she glares, trailing off, “Oh, and also guitar.”

“Now, _there’s_ something I can do!” Ricky hops off his spot on the counter and runs out of the room.

“Be a nuisance? You’re already doing that,” Gina laughs, picking up the tray and walking it over to the oven. She sets a fifteen-minute timer on her phone and waits for him to return, whatever antics he has in mind.

“Very funny,” he drawls, coming back into view, “I’m gonna play you some guitar.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah, heard someone thinks I’m very good at it.”

“Did she specify the _very_ …”

“Be quiet and let me serenade you, Gina Porter,” he yells, nodding for her to take a seat up on the counter, and well, he doesn’t have to tell her twice. She shuts up and lets the boy serenade her. “Any requests?”

“I don’t know…” she ponders, swinging her feet, her heels hitting the back of the kitchen island, “I’ve heard a lot of good things about some Ricky Bowen originals.”

“Oh my god,” he strums aimlessly, ducking his head in embarrassment, “Did Red say something to you?”

“Not really, just that one time you wrote a song and he thought it was about me,” she shrugs, “I was almost flattered for a second, then I realized it was probably just a clever way you were gonna ask for biology answers.”

“You think _so_ little of me, and then you want me to write you a _love song_!” Ricky props the guitar up on one knee, running his knuckles on the strings, totally unaware of the constricting effect that word has on her.

“I never said—”

“Man, I haven’t played in so long,” he shakes his head, plays a quick chord, “Don’t think it really matches the clock vibe I’ve got going on this show.”

He ghosts over the l-word comment so easily, like he didn’t even notice he said it, and Gina’s glad he’s filling the space with his own words because she knows she couldn’t get anything coherent out in her daze. _Love song?_

“I wrote a song before opening night of the last show, and well, am pretty convinced it was cursed,” He says, starting a familiar song, “So as a general rule of thumb I’m avoiding it, for this one.”

He’s playing the opening chords of his acoustic version of ‘When There Was Me and You’. Still unsure if she can speak, Gina smiles and follows his gentle motions.

“But if I remember correctly, you kinda liked this one so, I’m gonna borrow it from Gabriella really quick…”

As he starts to sing, Gina is transported immediately back to that day. God, it feels so long ago, but it couldn’t have been more than a few months ago. She had agonized over every little interaction with him while she waited for the next school day after homecoming. It was the first time everything felt different, and new. She certainly had never felt those kinds of feelings before.

The feelings are old news now, still familiar and steady in her chest, and she watches his eyelashes flutter on certain words, his chest rise and fall on a long note, his fingers run fast and quick, then slow over the strings. It’s weird how calming it is, to watch him play, when her heart is beating the fastest it ever has.

She’s swinging her feet, a nervous habit, and trying to hide her fidgety fingers under her knees when he sings the line, “And when you smiled, you made me feel like I could sing along…” (And what a happy coincidence, it is, when he looks up and finds her doing just that, _smiling_.)

He keeps playing, but cuts off the lyrics, his eyes wide as he almost jumps to speak, “Oh, that’s a good idea, Gina, sing along!”

“Ricky…”

“C’mon!” He pleads, before resuming, “And everybody else could tell that I confused my feelings with the truth…”

“Because I liked the view,” she sings softly, nervously tucking one ear to her shoulder, “When there was me and _you_ …”

“Okay, I heard that little riff at the end there, Porter,” Ricky gushes, and it only makes Gina sink in on herself further, “So, I know I’m a little rusty, but what’s the verdict?”

“I don’t know,” she starts, shyly, watching Ricky pull the guitar over his head and set it off to the side, “I’m pretty sure you just sang me a break-up song under the pretenses of a romantic serenade, so…”

“Alright, I’ll work on the delivery for the next one.”

“Oh?” Gina has trouble hiding her shock, “There’s gonna be a next one?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Ricky gulps, and Gina thinks maybe _he’s_ nervous too, as he steps forward, “You did ask for some Ricky Bowen originals.”

“And I’ll get them after the show?” Gina nods, watching him suck in a deep breath as he closes the distance between them, his hands on either side of her hips, his own between her knees as she continues to nervously knock her heels against the counter.

“To avoid bad luck,” he clarifies, and she hums in understanding.

“Well, good thing opening’s just next week,” she says, “I’m gonna bug you for hints about them every day until then. And you’re bound to get sick of me in the meantime.”

“How about I give you one hint every day?”

“Okay, fair,” she quirks her head to one side, looks down the timer on her phone, “You have four minutes to give me the first one.”

“Four minutes?”

“Tick tock, Bowen.”

“One actually is a love song.”

“Oh really?” Gina feels every bit of air escape her lungs, “You wrote it for someone, then?”

“And what if I did?”

Gina’s whole body is a buzz, it’s a miracle really she hasn’t just slipped off the counter altogether and collapsed into a pile of unintelligible mush. He’s looking at her like _that_ and he’s saying _these things_ and she really hopes she’s not coming to the wrong conclusion because she thinks she deserves _this_ , dammit. She has gone through hell and back in this stupid city, gone through hell and back for this boy, this stupid, impossible, nuisance of a boy that has had her heart from the minute he picked up his guitar in that auditorium and she swore, if she ever got the chance to love him the way she so desperately wanted to, she wasn’t gonna let herself get in the way of that. She couldn’t control all the people and things that have stopped her before, sure, but now it’s just her and her own heart. And her friends pestering is ringing in her ears and yeah, she’ll owe them iced coffees for a month if she doesn’t make a move, but she _owes it to herself_ to make a move.

“Well, then, I’d say you should find this person,” she starts, voice shaky, but barely above a whisper, surely he wouldn’t hear it if their faces weren’t so close, “And tell them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he smiles, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes scanning over her face, “Right now?”

“You’ve got four minutes.”

He stares at her, long and hard, and Gina feels her stomach backflip over and over again.

“Okay, that’s not a lot of time,” he glances down at his watch, and starts to back up.

Well, shit.

Gina’s heart drops so fast she thinks she could physically vomit, but she drums her fingers on the counter and steels herself, tries to pull it together and be a good friend for him, _friend_ , just like she’d tried to convince her friends that’s all she ever wanted from him.

“I was kidding about the time, I’ll save the cookies for you—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ricky’s chin is ducked as he grabs his sweatshirt on the stool to his left, starts scrolling on his phone, “Actually, you could help me out though.”

“Sure,” she is surprised her voice comes that evenly.

“You have any idea where I could find Gina Porter?”

If it were possible, Gina’s heart free-falls again.

“Because, I’ve only got like,” he pretends to pace frantically, “two minutes now, to tell her I really like her before I have to get back and eat an entire batch of cookies.”

“That was so mean,” she gasps, actually thinks there are tears in her eyes because it was the cruelest joke. She has half a mind to chuck the dirty mixing bowl at his head, but she can’t stop giggling and he’s smiling so brightly, eyes glowing.

“The opportunity was right there!” He yells, dancing in his spot, “What kind of a good nuisance would I be if I didn’t go for it?”

“Probably one with a girl that he likes not about to murder him with a mixing spoon!”

He smirks, and starts stepping slowly back towards her, “Keep it coming Gi, I won’t fall for it anymore.”

“You’re a _child_.”

“Mhm.”

“An absolute nuisance.”

“Yup.”

“Good at _nothing_.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Well that’s too bad,” he shrugs, finally back in place, his fingers drumming on top of the counter next to her hips, “I wanted to make a case for adding something to the list.”

“No promises I’ll let you add it, but, what did you have in mind?” She says, and he hums so sweetly, his breath right on her nose.

And then he kisses her.

He holds her face with both of his hands and pulls her lips towards his own, captures them in the sweetest, softest kiss, her mind fuzzy and chest tight with anticipation. It’s nothing like she imagined it, and believe her, she’s imagined it plenty. It’s gentle, his presence solid and captivating as he kisses her once, twice, tugs at her bottom lip while she finds her footing and kisses him back with more feeling than she’s ever had something to do with.

What a wonderful mess they make.

She wants him closer, tugs him forward and he giggles on her lips when his knees hit the bottom of the counter and she accidentally gets one hand in the bowl of cookie dough, and forgets this fact when she’s pushing that same hand through his curls. She wraps an ankle behind one of his calves and his pinky plays with a stray curl by her ear and Gina has to catch her breath at least three times.

She runs her thumbs over his cheeks just to check and make sure he’s real, and also to make his blush last a little longer.

The timer on her phone suddenly blares to life, and Gina falls forward into his arms with a yelp.

“Oh my god I forgot that was happening!”

“Let them burn!”

“Ricky!”

“I’m serious, they’re so unimportant right now,” he says, the signature twinkle in his eye, and Gina just wants to kiss him again and again.

“At least let me turn the timer off,” she wrestles one hand out of his grip, lets him keep hold of the other, “Just so you know, letting cookies burn in the oven makes it officially impossible for baking to ever make it on the list of things you’re good at.”

“You know, I’m finding it very hard to care about that right about now,” he smirks, his nose scrunched and adorable, “We have much more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Right… what was it you wanted to add again?” Gina drawls, tilting her head curiously as she slips her hands around his neck, “Maybe you should try it again, I haven’t made up my mind about it yet.”

“Oh yeah, okay,” he leans up, lips just a breath away from hers again, when suddenly, his stomach growls. Rather loudly.

Gina throws a hand over her mouth, her laugh practically twinkling as Ricky slinks back sheepishly.

“Alright, I was trying to keep the joke going here, but I actually really need those cookies, so…” he drops his grip on her and runs from the counter over to the side of the kitchen with the oven, grabs a mitt and starts to pull the tray out.

Gina just watches him in awe. It’s nothing special really, he’s just taking slightly burnt, store-bought chocolate chip cookies out of the oven on a random spring afternoon.

But that’s all Gina has ever wanted. A life that’s normal. Nothing special.

“You are impossible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he drops the tray and reaches across the island to grab her hand, “I like you too.”

He pulls her down towards him and kisses her on his messy kitchen floor.

**_This is looking like a contest_ **

**_Of who can act like they care less_ **

Opening night comes and almost everything is in place. Gina’s not gonna lie, the rehearsal time has been insane, Carlos drilling ‘Be Our Guest’ until she couldn’t feel her toes and having them all recite the lyrics to ‘Gaston’ so many times (and in so many different places, and speeds, and tempos, ya know, “to be prepared”) Gina is sure she has nightmares about the burly villain eating five dozen eggs in her sleep. But she has a good feeling tonight, it’s all gonna pay off.

Their dancing’s in order, they’re all signing on key, and their acting is well… good. Both on and off stage.

“Oh my god!”

“Kourtney!”

“What? Is it bad?” The leading lady in question spins and checks her reflection in the mirror, “I didn’t know if I should add the bow in the back, but—”

“Kourtney, you look incredible,” Gina gushes, running up behind her and smiling at her, hands on her shoulders, “You _are_ incredible. I can’t believe you had time to make this in between rehearsals.”

“Yeah, we’re literally playing talking fine china and thought the end was near,” Ashlyn jokes, joining the other two girls, “And you are an _actual_ princess.”

“You guys are ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously proud!”

“I think I’m prouder,” Gina teases, elbowing Ashlyn in the side, as Kourtney laughs, adjusting the hem of her blue dress.

“Not possible, Porter,” Ashlyn points to herself, “Proudest friend right here.”

“Are we fighting over who’s most proud of their best friend taking on her first lead in a musical and looking so fabulous while doing it because, sorry, no one but me is gonna win that fight…”

“Nini?”

The three girls turn to find the new voice in the doorway, and catch sight of a beaming Nini clutching a bouquet of flowers, “I’m sorry, I was trying to wait for after the show but it was killing me!”

Kourtney pulls up her skirt and runs, meeting Nini halfway in the middle of the girls dressing room, hugging her tightly to her chest. Gina smiles happily as she watches the two best friends giggle and dance giddily in place, gushing over each other and shaking in disbelief.

“It’s an opening night miracle.”

“Well, you’re not the only one who’s good at making a grand entrance,” Nini laughs, stepping away from Kourtney and shrugging as she smiles at Gina, “Hey Gina.”

“Hey Nini,” and she pulls the girl into a hug.

“Look, I’m not saying I’m backing down from my proudest best friend stance,” the older girl pulls Gina aside as she leaves Ashlyn and Kourtney in conversation about something neither of them could hear, “But why are you not in that dress!”

“What are you talking about?” Gina whispers back, her eyebrows scrunched.

“Gina, you’d be an amazing Belle,” Nini smiles, holding one of Gina’s hands, “I almost dropped my phone when Ricky told me you were playing Chip. Really, a _teacup_ , Gina?”“You were talking to Ricky?”

Nini shrugs, like she didn’t just drop the world’s most confusing sentence, “Yeah, I get homesick a lot, and he’s a good friend.”

“But you guys, you weren’t—” Gina stumbles over her words, because now she feels hot and fidgety and uncomfortable, talking about Ricky with his ex like it’s no big deal.

“Well, you know how Ricky can be, he’s _dramatic_ ,” she rolls her eyes good naturedly, “He meant well, I think, showing up to, I don’t know, “break up with me”, when I didn’t think we were even really together again. We have a bad habit of that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Gina wheezes, trying to sound like a laugh, but she’s so uncomfortable she can’t put it into words, “I’m glad things worked out between you two.” Every word is like a stab in the chest, knowing she’s congratulating Nini on a nice, mutual break up 3 days after she was making out with the same boy. The universe is cruel.

“Enough about dumb boys,” Nini waves her off, “More about why you’re standing in front of me dressed as a teacup.”

“Well, you’re not the only one who’s good at finding herself,” Gina mocks, but the sentiment remains, “I liked not being in the spotlight for a little.”

“I don’t totally buy it,” Nini quirks, “But I’m still happy for you.”

“Thanks, I’m uh, I’m really happy here.”

“As you should be,” Nini smiles, squeezing Gina’s hand, “I mean, you’ve got that amazing room at Ashlyn’s, and good classes, kissing Ricky, you’re dance captain of the spring musical—”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Gina gawks, stopping Nini.

She bats her eyelashes innocently up at the sophomore, “You’re dance captain of the show? I mean, that’s what the program says—”

“No, what did you— how did you know—”

“We’re friends! He tells me things!” Nini laughs, but Gina’s not, “Though I probably would have gotten more exciting details out of you, but, I’m not picky.”

“Oh my god,” Gina feels all the blood drain from her face as she drops it into her hands, embarrassed, “I didn’t tell anyone. And I swear, I’m not a terrible person. Anymore…”

“I never said you were!” Nini says, still smiling brightly in that way only Nini Salazar-Roberts can, “I’m telling you, we all thought it was a thing like, months ago.”

“Why are you being so cool about this?”

“Why are you not! C’mon, I know you haven’t told anyone, and you must want to, that’s like, 80% of the fun of having a boyfriend,” Nini pulls her closer and whispers again, “How was it?”

“How was what?”

“The date.”

“Well,” Gina purses her lips, “Haven’t been on one of those…”

“Gina Middle Name Porter!” Nini gasps.

“Oh my god, it’s Marie, I feel like I need to make an announcement or something—”

“He didn’t take you on a date?”

“We just kissed,” Gina confessed, “Like twice, the other night. Haven’t mentioned it since.” And it’s true. She hasn’t been avoiding him, not like she was after the skatepark fight. They talk, and they’re still completely obsessed with each other. But they’re doing that thing both of them have become experts at: not talking about it. Feelings, wants, hopes, inevitables. Gina knows where this thing should go, but her own insecurities lined up with Ricky’s are making any moves kind of impossible. It’s fine. Really. Just gonna kiss and move on.

Gina’s always cared about Ricky more than she should, and knowing he cares even more right back… Well, you think it’d be a no-brainier. But they’ve been stuck in a loop of acting like they care so much less, like their feelings don’t completely affect and overwhelm them.

She’s never loved someone like this and it’s terrifying. Taking the leap from nothing to _everything_.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s fine, I’m handling it,” but she’s most definitely not. Wasn’t before, and definitely isn’t now, standing here 30 ministers to curtain talking about her love-life with Nini, of all people. God, what kind of twisted parallel universe…

“I love both of you to death, but man, I did not think anyone could be worse at communicating than Ricky and me,” Nini laughs, and Gina’s not really getting why it’s funny, “He’s not gonna say anything so you have to.”

“I don’t want to!” Gina argues, “And why are you even encouraging this? I thought Nini 2.0 was anti-boys!”

“Well you know I cannot resist a good romance,” Nini gushes, pulling one flower out of the bouquet in her left hand, “And besides, _I_ needed the break from boys to find myself, but you’ve already been more strong, self-assured, and badass than I probably ever will be.”

Gina bites her bottom lip, tucking her cheek to her shoulder nervously, and takes the flower Nini offers.

“You deserve so much more than you ever think you could, Gina Porter.”

“Wow,” Gina sighs looking down at the red rose, “You know Carlos has driven us to the brink of insanity in rehearsals because I _really_ thought you were gonna finish that sentence with ‘this provincial life’.”

Nini laughs loudly and pulls Gina into another tight hug (albeit slightly awkward to reach around her oddly shaped teacup costume).

“Break a leg out there,” Nini winks, “But no hearts. He’s still my best friend, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gina says, twirling the flower in her hands, “See you later, Neens.”

The girl blows Gina a kiss and heads back to gush over her best friend for a few more moments before Miss Jenn calls them all to circle up, leaving Gina standing in front of her station mirror, with a lot to think about.

Five minutes to curtain, everyone’s costumes are in order, changes lined up and mics in place, voices warmed up and dances rehearsed. The entire cast crowds around each other, in whatever misshaped form of a circle they can squeeze into with their furniture costumes, and Gina’s heart feels just as full as the small, crowded hallway space.

“I am so, so proud of each and every one of you,” Miss Jenn closes her pep talk with a smile, squeezing Kourtney and EJ’s hands next to hers, “After the fall, I wasn’t sure I’d make it to the new year, let alone have two incredible productions to show for it, with even more incredible performers and crew members bringing them to life.”

“Why do I feel like we need to chant, ‘go wildcats!’ right now?” EJ jokes, and everyone laughs.

“Wrong show, but I do appreciate the sentiment,” Miss Jenn smiles, “And I feel like ‘go, enchanted kitchenware!’ just doesn’t have the same punch, right?”

“We could make it work,” Kourtney shrugs.

“Do we think we should have gone over our morale boost chant _before_ we were circling up on opening night?”

“Someone’s already in character, Cogsworth,” Carlos teases Ricky, “No fun!”

“How about, ‘tale as old as time’?” Gina offers, smiling with her arms around Ashlyn and Seb on one end of the circle.

“Song as old as rhyme…” Ricky answers, his voice light and airy and smile directed at only Gina, right across from her.

“Oh my goodness, finish it on three, everyone,” Miss Jenn whispers, throwing one hand in the center of the circle and rallying everyone together, “One, two…”

“ _Beauty and the Beast!”_

“Let’s go kick some enchanted booty out there!” Miss Jenn claps as everyone throws their hands up, chattering excitedly and making their way out of the hallways and towards the auditorium stage. Gina’s laughing at something Seb has said to her, poking at her teacup handle and fidgeting with his candlestick arms, when she feels another arm loop around her free one.

“Hey,” Ricky whispers in her ear, “Cutest teacup I’ve ever seen.”

“Ah, I think I’ve seen cuter clocks,” she shakes her head, leaning into his side as they start to head up the stairs.

Seb turns when he notices the pair has slowed down and Gina’s no longer keeping pace with him, but just smirks at them, giggling, “Carlos wasn’t kidding about being your third wheel, huh?” And Gina swats away his teasing hand, “It’s fine, I’ll remember how fast you ditched me. Just return him to me in one piece, Gi. I can’t reach my full candlestick potential without my grumpy other half.”

“Will do, Seb,” Gina salutes, as the blonde runs off to find his actual, choreographing other half, as they finish up the short set of stairs.

“I’m not actually that grumpy,” Ricky says, leaning his head towards Gina’s sweetly, “I’m _misunderstood_.”

“I think you’re just grumpy, clock boy,” Gina smirks, pulling him closer to her as they reach the entrance to the stage.

He’s smiling so brightly, and he feels so good this close to her, and she can hear Nini so clearly, _just make a move Gina, you deserve it_ , and she’s screaming at herself to say something, because if there’s anything she learned from this show, it’s that you never know when you’ll get another chance to tell someone you love them. You never know how powerful love can be.

“Oh my god, I’m so nervous,” Ricky bounces on his toes, looking up and over her, peering onto the stage, “I don’t know why anyone thought I could actually be a theater kid.”

His nervous energy permeates all the space around them, and Gina can’t help the way she sighs at how adorable it is, her love for him oozing out of her before she can catch it.

“What if I mess up all my lines, or blank on stage?” Ricky rambles, “Carlos will cry if I box step in the wrong direction. Is it left or right? The on in the middle of Be Our Guest? You do it too, right—”

“Relax, Ricky,” Gina places a steadying hand on his shoulder, leans up on her toes so they’re at the same height, “I don’t think you’re gonna do any of that, but even if you did, all those things happened in the last show, and we still killed it.”

“Oddly reassuring,” Ricky sighs, “You always been this wise and preachy?”

She nods, holding his face in her hands.

“I’m not gonna get all mushy on you, that would be very out of character for me,” She hums softly, and watches the way it lights up his eyes. “But you’re gonna be good. I mean it.”

“Wow, Gina Porter thinks impossible nuisance _Ricky Bowen_ is good at something?”

“Yeah, I actually think he’s good at lots of things,” she winks, “But don’t tell him I said that. Don’t need his head getting too big now.”

“Maybe he’ll finally fit in that hat.”

She giggles and runs her thumbs over his cheeks.

“After the show, can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me everything.”

“Okay,” she smiles, and moves one hand just enough to kiss his cheek, “Don’t worry, teacups don’t wear lipstick.”

She starts to saunter away with a little skip, moving to get in position on the opposite side of the stage, but not before Ricky pulls her back with one hand, “Great, because there’s something else I’m good at that I really wanted to do, but if I walked onstage with lipstick stains Carlos would kill me and then we’d have broken our promise to Seb.”

He pulls Gina flush against him and kisses her, light and quick.

Her mind is foggy, but she finds her footing enough to start walking back to where she’s supposed to start.

“Might have to upgrade you, Bowen,” she winks, “That’s getting better than good.”

The look on his face is totally worth it, as she spends the entire opening scene backstage explaining to Ashlyn _what the hell she just witnessed_.

**_But I would lay my armor down_ **

**_If you'd say you'd rather love than fight_ **

The mood is electric and light once the curtain closes.

Gina gets squeezed into a hug between Ashlyn’s parents, and plasters on her cheesiest smile for the five consecutive minutes she has to spend posing for Christmas card pictures with the Caswells. Miss Jenn cannot stop gushing about how proud she is of all of them and people Gina doesn’t even know come up to her multiple times in the lobby just to compliment her. Nini waves across the crowded room, mocking her with kissy faces and promises of romance later, and Carlos doesn’t stop hugging her for a good long while, and Gina is sure the thing that might finally make her cry comes when Mike Bowen walks over and hands her a bouquet of flowers.

“You were the best one up there,” he says as Gina hugs the beautiful bouquet to her chest, “And you _can_ tell my son I said that.”

“You guys are too nice to me,” she giggles, this giddy feeling stuck in her chest, “Speaking of, where is he? I haven’t been able to find him since bows.”

“Oh, I left the second part of your gift in the auditorium,” Mike smiles, nodding behind his shoulder to the doors, “Had him run back in and get it for me.”

“You really didn’t have to get me anything,” she shakes her head, shyly, “The flowers were already too much.”

“You’re so special, Gina,” he says to her, “If Ricky’s not reminding you of that enough, I will. You deserved a special night.”

“I don’t know—” Gina tries to dismiss him again through a wide grin, but just as she starts her sentence she sees the auditorium doors swing open, and into the lobby comes— “Mom?”

Gina isn’t sure how she reacts so quickly, her feet pulling her away from where she stands without a second thought, almost dropping her flowers in shock when it finally registers, her mom, standing right here, in the lobby of East High. She runs and meets her in the middle, jumping to hug her, her flowers getting stuck in her hair.

“What are you doing here? How? What?” Gina runs over her words, shaking her head where it rests on her mom’s shoulder, “What about work?”

“Took the night off,” he mom answers, “It’s not every day your daughter plays the world’s most famous teacup.”

Gina laughs, finally sinking back from the hug to see her mom face-to-face, “This is crazy, I still don’t understand how you got here, and kept it a secret from me!”

“Someone pulled some strings, made a very convincing argument and swore you’d be willing to share your guest room for one night,” Gina’s mom smiles, and it’s just then that Gina notices Ricky shutting the auditorium door, looking up at his dad with a smile. “Why do I feel like you’ve been leaving out some details on our weekly FaceTimes?”

“Oh my god!”

“I’m still your mother,” she says, but she’s laughing and Gina’s never felt so happy, “And those wings don’t hide everything…”

“This is it, this is how I go.”

“I’m so so proud of you sweetie,” Her mom sighs, hugging her again, “And I’m sorry if you ever doubted that. You have such an incredible heart, and more talent that I think I ever gave you credit for. Seeing you on that stage, surrounded by your friends,” she stops, catches her breath, and pulls back to look Gina in the eye, “ _That’s_ all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“Thanks mom.”

“Okay, okay, we’re gonna stop before we ugly cry,” she laughs, nudging at the corner of her eye with the sleeve of her jacket, “Ashlyn’s parents invited me out to dinner, and I heard you’re headed to a party. I’ll see you tonight?”

“You’re gonna hog my entire queen-sized bed, huh?”

She laughs, kisses Gina on the forehead, and turns to walk away, stopping in front of the Bowen men to thank them again and again.

Gina shakes her head, squeezes the flowers still in her hand, watches her mom talk to Ricky and feels like dying, and tries to steady her breathing. This was all absolutely insane. She takes a minute to herself, watching all her worlds collide and finally, finally, thinks she’s found a permanent home.

But a minute, is all she gets, before Carlos is tugging her across the lobby, “Cheetah Girls emergency meeting, _now_!”

Gina flies behind him laughing before they reach their destination, a hallway off to the side by the dressing rooms, and Ashlyn speaks up first.

“Okay, after last show’s fiascos, I am trusting no one,” Ashlyn claps her hands together as the four teens huddle up, “I’m gonna need everyone to disclose all the romantic developments in their lives _right now_.”

“Bold statement coming from the girl who kissed Big Red on stage after we’d all already left for your house!” Carlos yells, but she shushes him.

“Whatever, I have nothing to hide,” Kourtney starts with a noncommittal shrug, “EJ asked me out.”

“What!”

“No fucking way!”

“I don’t know why you’re all so surprised, you’ve been teasing me about it for weeks,” she says, and Gina notices her absently playing with a bracelet on her wrist that she doesn’t think was there before the show.

“Yeah, but usually when we tease people nothing actually comes from it!”

“That’s just Gina,” Carlos rolls his eyes, “Still pining over the same boy.”

“No! Not pining!” Ashlyn interjects, then stares down Gina, “Gina, you wanna share, or should I?”

Gina glares, biting her lip, but finally concedes, “Ricky and I kissed.” Gasps. “And I may or may not be telling him I love him later.”

“What the _fuck_ is going on tonight?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’ve been in love with the guy for like, a full year at this point,” Gina shakes her head, “When even _Nini_ is telling me to go for it, I feel like I gotta just go for it.”

“Nini knew before us?”

“This girl group is falling apart and it’s all a bunch of white boys faults,” Carlos snaps, “Next weekend, we’re having a sleepover and getting our matching pajamas and apology songs in order.”

“Yes sir.”

“This is too much for my brain to handle,” Ashlyn shakes her head, “I thought catching Gina and Ricky kissing was bad, but now I have to risk seeing Kourt with my cousin?”

“Wanna make your brain hurt even more?” Gina offers, “Get this, Ricky and his dad convinced my mom to come here tonight.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Gina nods, “I have to tell him. Seriously, I don’t think I can last another minute without confessing.”

“Ricky and Gina sitting in a tree,” Kourtney sing songs.

“At least with your mom here I won’t have to worry about walking in on you and Ricky at all.”

“Ashlyn!”

“Anything else? Or is this meeting adjourned?”

“Gina, sweetie, we have so much more to talk about,” Carlos sighs, “But fine, let’s all go kiss our white boys, and we’ll talk about it more in the morning.”

“I hate us.”

“I _love_ us,” Gina gushes, pulling her friends in for a mushy group hug, “I love you guys. Seriously, I— You’re the first real friends I’ve ever had.”

“Gina shut up right now or I’m gonna cry.”

“I’m serious,” Gina hums, hugging them tighter, “You guys got me through so much this year. I always thought having friends would be cool but this is like…” she sighs, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Good, stop talking, my makeup looked really good before this conversation,” Kourtney laughs, and everyone echoes.

Gina’s heart swells with one last squeeze before they let each other go and run off, back to find their respective targets in the crowded lobby.

If you had told Gina, standing in the lobby after _High School Musical_ last fall, that she would be standing here now, with so much love in her heart she didn’t know how she could possibly fit it all in, she’d never believe you. Sure, nothing has been perfect, but it’s hers. This crazy, wild, normal teenage drama is hers and it’s constant. It came and it never left. She gets to keep these feelings, this place and these people, in any way she can squeeze it into her heart.

She pulls her flowers close to her chest and stills her breathing.

What a story her feelings have led her on.

She’s snapped out of her thoughts when EJ asks if she needs a ride back to Ash’s, but she declines, not citing her alternative, but like that EJ might not care because he’s saving her spot for someone else. She giggles at him and reminds herself to tease him later. Ashlyn waves and follows him out, Big Red in tow and says to text her when she’s on her way, and waves her red rose at Nini, whispering a silent thank you for the encouragement. She finds her mom still talking to Mike Bowen and Ashlyn’s parents, heading out the doors and the lobby is finally emptier, slightly more breathable.

She shrugs her bag over one shoulder and heads out the door, hoping the one person she’s still looking for hasn’t left quiet yet.

“Cutest teacup in the cupboard.”

“I still think there are cuter clocks,” Gina turns at the sound of his voice, shrugging.

“You’ve met other clocks?”

“Mhm,” she hums, finding a spot next to him, where he sits on the bench outside the school, his knees tucked under his chin, “Think I’d still pick you though.”

He laughs lightly, drops his head tilted on his knees to look over at her, one eye squinted and nose scrunched, “You know, I almost slipped up and told you I loved you like, at six different points tonight.”

Gina can’t help the audible gasp that leaves her lips.

“Crap, I just did it, didn’t I?” He says, genuinely distraught, “God, you mess with my brain, Ginarina.”

“I love you too,” she rushes to say, never so sure of anything in her life, “Just wanted to get that out there, before whatever cheesy speech you have planned, because I know you do.”

“Why do you have to say it like that? I work hard on these speeches and now I’m just self-conscious,” he bumps his shoulders into hers, “I didn’t imagine this would happen so anti-climactically.”

“Wow, big word there, Bowen,” Gina giggles, leaning into his space, then sighing, “But I don’t think I’m all that surprised.”

“No?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “Loving you isn’t big and dramatic and scary anymore. It’s easy, and assuring, and makes me feel like the cutest teacup in the cupboard.”

“Well, you _are_.”

“I think maybe I’ve loved you so long everything I did was a little way of telling you,” she bites at the inside of her lip, not remembering when being this vulnerable and open started feeling this nice.

“Way to steal my thunder there, with the cheesy speech,” he teases, but holds the hand closest to his and it grounds Gina, to this moment, this place, this feeling.

“I actually did have a speech prepared. When I told you before the show I wanted to tell you something,” she drops her head on his shoulder, looking out at the parking lot, remembering how difficult it was to hold her feelings in when she ran through the snow and got into that ugly orange car, and how easy it is now, “I was gonna got on some rant about how all this time I’ve been telling you everything, yet I left out the most important thing. And maybe you’d pretend to get mad and one of us would run away, because we always gotta go for the dramatics, you know us. And then I’d grab your hand and pull you back and kiss you. And tell you I love you, with you right there, so close I could see every little wrinkle around your eyes. And then I’d thank you for bringing my mom here, but tell you because of that, you’re the reason we can’t go back and make out on my bed so I don’t wanna hear any complaints.”

He laughs and Gina bounces on his shoulder, making her laugh a little too.

“But back before this show started, you put your head on my shoulder at the skatepark and asked me for five more minutes, five more minutes of just the two of us,” Gina sighs, settling into the crook of his neck even more, “And I think that was it. I sat there with you for five minutes, and loved you for every minute of it. It was so easy, knowing I’d choose you every five minutes. And even if I didn’t say it, I was sure you knew. We can do silence. We’re good at it. Because we get each other. So I decided to ditch the speech. And just wanna spend five minutes loving you.”

Gina feels Ricky’s head twist just a little, and he drops a kiss on her forehead, “I want so much more than just five minutes with you, Gina.”

“I know.”

“I think you _are_ my everything.”

“Couldn’t let me have the cheesiest line of the night, huh Bowen?”

“The opportunity was right there!” He cradles her closer to him, “Thanks for staying, and getting me to stay.”

“It’s what we do,” she shrugs.

“You wanna walk to Ashlyn’s?” He says, “I had the foresight to let Red take the clown mobile, knowing you’d probably hate me forever if I told you I loved you in there.”

“Oh you’re absolutely right,” Gina laughs, “I’d never let you live it down.”

“You think Mike will let me borrow his car tomorrow?”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m taking you on a proper first date,” Ricky smiles, “Wanna make a good, non-orange first impression when I pick you up.”

“Well, if you tell him it’s for me, I’m sure he’ll make an exception,” Gina says, “He said I’m very special.”

“You are,” he holds one hand out in front of them and nods, “Ready for a stroll, my teacup?”

And Gina takes his hand, but pulls it back between them, snuggles closer into his chest sitting on the bench, and finally, just _breathes_.

“Five more minutes.”

**_I'm starting to think one day I'll tell the story of us…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look i know this is inspired by a breakup song and i literally took that last line out of context so i could stick on the cheesiest, happiest ending to this story but dammit THATS JUST NOT THE NERGY WE NEED IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW!!!
> 
> (sorry to anyone who like, actually like angst and was looking for a sad ending, maybe re-read it and stop 3 sections in)
> 
> but i hope this story made you smile just a little bit, and could brighten up your day in a small way during this crazy time. hope you are all staying safe, well, and happy as much as you can <3 thank you for the continuous love <3
> 
> give yourself five more minutes to breathe. you got this!


	2. incredible amazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! thank you for the tremendous amounts of love on this story! i loved every minute of writing it for you, so much so that i literally never want to stop writing these characters...
> 
> ...so i've decided not to! i started writing this before i posted the original story, but liked where it ended without it so ended up cutting it. but in honor of the fantastic rina week put together by some of the most incredible and talented people i know, thought this might be a fun little 'endgame' snippet to finish for you all. it's not much, but this story makes me so happy, and i wanted to write these lovesick kiddos a silly little first date (featuring more 'the story of us' lyrics i've taken WILDLY out of context).
> 
> like gina in this story, we're all trying to figure out our place in the world right now. i hope everyone is healthy, happy and safe during these crazy times, and hope my fluffy nonsense stories give you even a moment of calm in the midst of it all. 
> 
> all my love, katie <3

****

****

****

****

****

**_How’d we end up this way? See me nervously_ **

**_Pulling at my clothes, and trying to look busy_ **

****

****

****

For the first time in Gina’s life, everything stands still. And it’s a beautiful feeling. Like the weight of Ricky’s head on her shoulder at the skatepark, the gentle way he’d ask for five more minutes, and suddenly, she can say _yes_. She has all the time in the world for five more minutes.

Everything has found a place, even things she didn’t know needed one. She has a home, solid and sturdy and always full, family on two ends of the country enveloping her in love. She has friends, like _nicknames and inside jokes_ kind of friends, people to steal homework from and to do homework for, she has a coffee order, a spot on the couch and a favorite sweatshirt to steal. She has a place, everything in her life has a place, and something she never thought she’d ever be able to say, her feelings for Ricky have a place. A really good one, at that.

She swings her hand in his all the way home on opening night, teasing him for the eyeliner he forgot to take off and marveling at the fact that she had a reason to even be close enough to him to catch it, leans up on her toes and kisses him until he almost trips off the sidewalk.

He yells at her to move over, she’s hogging the whole sidewalk.

She makes room for him, gives him a place.

It feels _wonderful._

During The Big Moment after the show, Ricky had told Gina he’d take her on a date the next day, but things are all still falling into place and the weekend gets away from them. With the cast party and Gina’s mom being in town, another show and life in general, things get pushed back a day or two. Gina doesn’t mind, the air around her so warm and bright for the first time in a while. She’s loved him from a distance for so long that just being so close makes her feel like floating.

Sunday night, after Gina’s mom’s flight has left and the house is quiet again, is when it happens.

She’s going on a date!

And even though the butterflies in her stomach could lift her out and away through her open bedroom window, she’ll defend her very cool, totally chill, not at all freaking out demeanor.

“I don’t even know why we’re making such a big deal out of this.”

“It’s your first date!”

“It’s _Ricky,_ ” Gina hums, smoothing down the hem of her floral dress, “We’ll be lucky if he treats me to the dollar menu at McDonald’s.”

“You love McDonald’s French fries!” Ashlyn teases her from her bed, chin propped up in her hands.

“I know, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, I’m just saying,” she twirls to face her friend, ready to give the once-over on the outfit she spent at least two hours deciding on for her, “We don’t need to do anything crazy.”

“Well you look _crazy_ amazing!” Ashlyn smiles, and it makes Gina tug at the sleeve of her dress again.

“You’re sure?”

“Thought this wasn’t a big deal, huh?”

“I still wanna look nice,” Gina’s nervous shrug betrays her, bouncing her curls over one shoulder.

“Nice for what?” Gina turns at the sound of the new voice in the doorway and finds EJ’s head peaking around the frame, smiling, “Oh my god, the date’s _today_?”

“How did you—”

“I’m not blind, you _do_ look amazing, and I know it’s not for family dinner night,” he steps into the room smiling.

“Thanks, EJ.”

“Is he picking you up here?”

“Yeah, in like, a half hour, why—” Gina starts, then crosses her arms over her chest, the realization setting in, “EJ, do _not_.”

“What? I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry Gina, what’s he gonna do?” Ashlyn deadpans, “Throw a basketball at his face?”

“Hey, _I_ never did that, that was _him—”_

“Whatever, save your protective big brother spiel for another night,” she continues, waving him off.

Gina laughs and turns to face him, “Have you talked to Kourtney recently? She was supposed to come and do my makeup, but she said she was getting dinner first—”

“Hey, I’m here,” as if on cue, Kourtney appears in Gina’s room, “Sorry, there was uh, traffic.”

“Traffic?”

“Who let you in?”

“Uh, EJ did,” she says offhandedly, then tries to change the subject abruptly, “Gina, I _love_ that dress, it’s so—”

“EJ let you in?” Ashlyn bites her bottom lip, and Gina can see the wheels turning, “EJ, weren’t you just out getting dinner?”

“Yeah…”

“Oh my god.”

“Kourtney!”

“This is why I didn’t wanna say anything,” she eyes her friends, and Gina can’t help the laughing smiling that she shares with EJ, who is much less embarrassed by the situation.

“You probably would have gotten away with it if EJ didn’t decide to go all protective big brother in here—”

“Oh my god, I never said I was gonna do anything, I just wanted to know if he was picking you up here!” EJ yells, finding a spot next to Ashlyn on the bed, “Because he _should be_ , Gina deserves no less!”

“If we’re all done being crazy now…” Kourtney turns to Gina, who holds her hands up in mock surrender.

“I didn’t say a word,” she says, but smiles as Courtney makes her way to the mirror to start. Gina sits in the chair by her small vanity, plays with her fingers in her lap, and once she’s sure the Caswell’s have busied themselves with a conversation of their own, whispers, “Okay but seriously, I will take any first date advice you have.”

“It didn’t even feel like a date,” Kourtney shakes her head, but continues when she notices Gina’s worried expression, “In a good way, like, I wasn’t nervous at all.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she affirms, pulling out her makeup brushes, “And if _I’m_ saying that, then I have no doubt _you_ will be absolutely fine, Gina.”

It doesn’t do much to settle Gina’s tumbling nerves, but she feels fine enough for now. Conversation lingers between the four teens as Gina finishes getting ready, most of the ‘getting ready’ consisting of nervously checking her phone for the time and a text. There’s a whole 30-seconds she doesn’t stress when Carlos arrives, and the room is so crowded and noisy she can’t hear her own nervousness.

And she’s reminded again how good it feels to be stuck in one place.

“Listen, it cannot go any worse than my first date,” Carlos tries to appease her, five minutes to Ricky’s expected arrival, “Seb’s cow died and, in my distress, I took advice from _Benjamin Mazzara_ and started dancing by myself in the middle of homecoming.”

“Oddly reassuring,” Gina quirks a brow at her friend.

“We won’t let you dance alone, Gi!”

“Hopefully we’re not dancing in the middle of dinner,” she laughs, “But thanks anyway.”

“Damn, Kourtney remind me to book you for my next date,” Ashlyn marvels at Gina when she turns around, “Gi, you always look incredible, but _wow_.”

“Shut up, you’re just saying that.”

“She’s not, you’re literally glowing,” Carlos asks, swinging his feet over the edge of Gina’s beds, “This was so cute, why don’t we do this before everyone goes on dates?”

“You don’t?” EJ asks, and the sophomore punches him in the shoulder.

Gina misses whatever is said next, because suddenly and finally, her phone screen lights up where it had been resting in her lap the past half hour.

She giggles audibly when she reads his message, laden with an obnoxious amount of heart emojis she knows he’d never use otherwise, and doesn’t know how she’s supposed to survive a whole date when her heart already doesn’t feel like it can fit inside her body.

“Oh my god, you guys, he’s here!”

“Wait, how do you know he’s here?” Gina squints at Carlos, shoulders shrugged.

“Look at you! It’s obvious!” He gasps, “Am I wrong?”

She pauses for minute, before giving in with a sigh, “You’re not wrong.”

“Ah! Oh my god!”

“It’s happening!”

“Can I be the one to open the door?”

“Guys,” Gina winces as her friends stir in a flurry of excitement, rushing off her bed and down the stairs, “It’s just _Ricky_!”

“How many times do we have to go over this?” EJ’s the only one left in the room, smirks at her with an arm around her shoulder as they slowly follow behind, “They don’t care that it’s him, just that it’s _you_.”

“You guys are ridiculous,” she sighs, hopping down the stairs with a giddy nervousness, “And _no one_ is opening the door.”

“Yeah, yeah, let them have their moment,” he sighs, then looks down at her, seriously, “You know, I meant it when I said I wasn’t gonna say anything to him, but you already know how I feel about him hurting you…”

“I know, EJ.”

“And if he is anything short of an absolute _gentleman—”_

“I got it, I’ll keep you two away from basketballs.”

“Oh my god I’m not gonna do that!”

“Thanks, EJ, really,” Gina lets out a long deep breath, looking up at her pseudo big brother as they reach the bottom of the stairs, “I’m lucky to have you.”

“I’ll have the break-up ice cream ready, Porter.”

“I’m sure you’ll be sitting here, fingers crossed, Caswell,” she winks, before stepping towards the door, where her three other friends have gathered, “Okay, living room.”

“No! We wanna see!”

“It’s weird!”

“It’s not weird! He’s our friend!”

“I’m just here to make fun of him,” Carlos nods.

“Living room,” Gina points to the opposite room, and the trio sighs, defeated, “Love you guys!”

“We’re not leaving until you get back and deliver a full summary of the night!”

“Make good choices!”

“Oh my god, they’re getting dinner not—”

“Well then I hope she makes a good choice on the menu!”

“If he’s paying, buy the most expensive thing you can find!”

“Carlos!”

“Bye guys,” Gina waves, before steadying herself with a breath and a hand on the doorknob. She tries to remember Kourtney’s words, to not be nervous because a date really wasn’t anything different than they’d normally do. Deep breath, one last fidget of the hem of her dress and—

“Hey.”

“Woah,” Ricky jumps back where he’s standing on the small porch as Gina opens the door, slides out, and shuts it behind her all in one fell swoop, fear of a stray friend or two making an appearance. She underestimates the force of her quick move, and steadies herself on the small step, smiling lopsidedly.

“Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry, ever,” Ricky shakes his head, eyes scanning up and down, his cheeks a bright red already, “You look— uh, yeah, no, don’t apologize.”

She giggles, her nose crinkling.

“Um, thanks?”

“No, I mean, lemme finish that!” He yelps, apologetically, “You look incredible. Amazing, so pretty, I mean, not that you don’t always look incredible and amazing and pretty, and not that your looks are even that important, well, I mean they _are_ important and you’re _beautifu_ l, I just mean—”

“Ricky,” she smiles, cutting off his rambling, “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he nods, and it makes her heart leap the way he rocks on his heels, all jittery and nervous like her.

“You look incredible and amazing and pretty too,” she says and by instinct, reaches over and tucks a curl off to the side of his face, look down at his barely ironed button-up shirt and jeans, his signature vans looking a little cleaner than usual. He was trying so hard.

“Um, thanks,” he sighs, looking at her and then turning slightly, “I uh, I got these for you.”

“Oh,” Gina gasps as he juts a hand out to her, holding a bouquet of flowers that he looks like he just bought on the drive here. He was trying _so_ hard. “Thank you,” she takes them, hugs them close to her chest, “They’ll look really nice with the ones your dad gave me on opening night. They’re in a vase in my room.”

Nice one, Gina, bring up _his dad_ on the first date. Cool.

“Oh, yeah,” he nods, his now free hands fidgeting in front of him, “Did you wanna uh, go leave them inside or—”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” she implores, tilting her head to the window at her left.

There’s a beat of silence, Ricky’s eyes flitting between hers and the window, and then, “They’re all watching us from in there right now, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Awesome,” he deadpans, and it just makes Gina giggle again.

“Alright well, I was planning on doing this anyway, but,” he smirks, suddenly leaning forward and pulling her towards him by her wrist, and placing a neat kiss on her cheek. Gina feels her breath caught in her throat, their faces still only inches apart, “That should hold them over for a few hours, right?”

She nods, and kisses his nose.

“I just bought us another.”

“I could probably keep you for the week once they see me walk you to my car arm in arm.”

“You’re gonna walk me to your car arm in arm?” She asks, but is immediately whisked off the porch and down the stairs, bouquet in on arm and the other linked around Ricky’s, “Oh, the chivalry.”

“Wait until I _open your_ _door_!”

“Slow down there, Romeo!” She teases as they approach the car, and Ricky does indeed open the passenger side for her, “No pumpkin carriage tonight?”

“I promised!” He says, and Gina tucks her feet in and shuts the door, Ricky running around t the other side, a less nervous spring in his step now, “And you were right, Mike Bowen gave the car up very quickly once I told him it was for you.”

“I’m always right,” she eyes him from the side, settling her flowers in her lap, “Where are we off to?”

“Surprise.”

“Oh, fancy.”

“Only the best for you my teacup,” he hums, one arm on her headrest as he twists his body to look behind and back down the driveway, “You ready?”

She sighs, long and loud, the nerves totally escaping her, “I’m ready.”

The drive to their destination is quiet and more awkward than Gina’s expecting. She’s never had a problem talking to Ricky, ever. Never had a problem choosing what song to play when he handed her aux, never been more fascinated with looking down at her skirt than at him. But her every instinct is escaping her, even without being nervous, it’s like she’s forgotten how to act around him. They make small talk, like first date kind of small talk, which would be fine for any first date but this one. Because she already knows all the stupid icebreaker game type stuff about him, and god help them when it actually gets so awkward in the air that she asks him about the weather. The weather! She asks the boy who thought clouds got cut in half when it was “partly cloudy” about the weather today.

It’s going wonderfully, in case you couldn’t already tell.

Luckily, it’s not a long car ride, and before she has to ask him about the stock market or something, they’re pulling into a spot outside a nice little Italian restaurant she knows Ashlyn’s like to go to on their anniversaries.

She gulps loudly.

“This is nice,” she hums looking over to him, where he sits, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

“Yeah, it’s like, super romantic,” he nods, “So I hear, I’ve never been.”

“Should be fun,” she starts, “Nice.”

“Yeah,” he repeats, fingers still playing a melody on the steering wheel, neither of them moving, stuck in the immovable awkward tension.

Gina lets them sit for a minute, her insides eating away at her before, “Okay, Ricky what are we doing here?”

“Getting dinner…” he starts slowly, shyly.

“No, I mean,” she shakes her head, sighing and turning to face him across the seat, “Why is this so weird?”

He sits, turns to face her too, and doesn’t say anything for a moment before suddenly bursting into laughter, “Oh my god I have no idea! I’ve never been so nervous in my life, and you saw me before the show on Friday.”

“Right?” She joins him, the tension popping with every giggle that echoes around them, “Like, I thought we were being weird on the steps at home because our friends were spying, but then the whole way here…”

“It’s weird,” he nods.

“I was really nervous before you showed up,” she confesses.

“I’m still nervous,” he ticks his eyes down, suddenly interested in the hem of his shirt.

“What? Why, it’s just _me,_ ” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“That’s the thing, it’s _you_. I wanna do everything so perfectly right for you,” he sighs back in his seat, “I’m terrible at this, and I just thought if I did all like, the ‘right’ date things then maybe I’d be the ‘right’ kind of guy for once.”

He’s still so nervous, she can tell, and her heart somersaults when she thinks of all the ways he’d already tried so hard tonight, and it kills her that he’d been second guessing himself during every step of it.

“I don’t wanna go on the right kind of date or be with the right kind of guy,” she says simply, pulling one of his hands into her lap and lacing it with hers, “Take me on a Ricky date.”

“A Ricky date?”

“Twenty minutes ago I was sure we’d be sharing a McFlurry in the backseat of your ugly orange buggy,” she laughs, “That’s the kind of date I was nervous to be on. A _Ricky_ date.”

He sighs, smiling slightly.

“I’m sure this restaurant is lovely, but honestly,” she shrugs, her eyes wandering over his face happily, “French fries sound really good right now.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she beams, giggling on the tip of his nose, “I love _you_ , Ricky Bowen.”

“Oh my god that never gets any less cool to hear,” he laughs, biting his lip and tipping his head forward, his forehead resting on hers, and the silly little confession makes something light up inside Gina she’s never felt before.

“Want me to say it again?”

“I mean, if you want…” he teases.

“I love you,” she barely even hesitates, so sure and happy.

“I love you,” he shakes his head in disbelief and it ruffles the curls on the edge of her face, “Like, way more than overpriced Italian food and ugly flowers.”

“They’re not ugly!”

“Gi, they’re _ugly_ ,” he nods, “I almost peed my pants in the flower shop, I just picked up the first ones I saw.”

“Well it’s a good thing _you’re_ not ugly.”

“I’m not?”

“Not today,” she hums, a feeling more confident than she had all night so far, places a peck on his lips, “You’re incredible and amazing and pretty.”

“You’re like, all those words and every synonym in the thesaurus.”

“You know what a thesaurus is?”

“Shut up!”

“Make me,” she challenges, and it has the desired effect. He kisses her quiet in the passenger seat of his borrowed car, not ugly and orange.

After a few breathless moments, he pulls back, his thumbs tracing circles on her cheeks, “Okay, can I restart?”

“Course you can.”

“Gina Porter, will you go on a date with me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay cool,” he sinks back in his seat, a wave of calm and confidence finally hitting him too. He holds one of her hands as he restarts the car, “How does pizza sound?”

“Fantastic,” she says, squeezing his hand in hers, “The greasier the better.”

“Careful what you wish for,” he eyes her, pulling out of the spot, “Because I don’t know if anyone’s ever taken you toBig Red’s family pizza shop but, greasy is not a strong enough word for what we’re about to eat.”

“Bring it on, Bowen,” she smiles, “This is Ashlyn’s dress I borrowed, so if I stain it, it’s not my problem.”

“Okay, you were not kidding about this pizza,” Gina holds up her slice over her white paper plate and watches the cheese, still hot and greasy, start to ooze, “It’s fantastic.”

“Right?” Ricky says, already on his second slice. They look almost out of place, situated in their fancy date outfits in a small booth in the corner of a walk-in pizza place, but Gina has never felt more in place. Everything feels so good. The warm pizza, Big Red’s parents waving to them every few minutes, Ricky very not-so-subtly playing footsies, wrapping his ankles around hers. Her cheeks hurt from smiling, so bright and wide it’s as if she’s auditioning for a toothpaste ad.

“How long have you been coming here?”

“Feels like forever,” Ricky says through a mouthful of pizza, “I’d hang out with Red here after school and eat his slice and mine. Too much lactose, you know?”

“What a beautiful friendship!” she giggles, “If I were him though, I’d end it the minute i saw you talking with your mouth full like that.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, tight-lipped, and she just laughs again. Again and again and again.

Joy bubbles up inside her and fills every space around her, cheesing at her messy boyfriend over a cheesy piece of pizza.

She kicks at his dirty vans and traces patterns on the table top until her hand falls into his, finds its place.

“I remember when Red’s dad brought that into the shop, we were like, in seventh grade,” Ricky nods behind them, to a corner of the shop with two old arcade games pushed together, “I’d eat the pizza and Red would get started trying to beat that thing.”

Gina looks over and sees the old, beat-up machines, one a flashy pinball machine, the other a claw machine, filled with plush prizes.

“They had one of those at the arcade by my old house when I was little,” Gina smiles fondly, taking another bite of her pizza, “Quite the pinball wizard back in the day, if I do say so myself.”

“Oh really?” Ricky laughs, dropping his crust and picking up a napkin, “You realize who you’re talking to?”

“What’s your high score?”

“I wouldn’t wanna embarrass you, Gi.”

Gina eyes him over her slice, twists her lips knowingly.

He sighs loud and bites the crust with a crunch, “Fine, I don’t wanna embarrass _myself_.”

“That’s what I thought,” she triumphantly sips her drink.

“In my defense, we stopped playing at age twelve!”

“Okay, and?” she points, “I was like, ten.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t!” she sings songs, happily, “You _love_ me.”

“Yeah, I do,” a sudden sincerity laces his voice, and it settles something warm and familiar inside her.

_I’m dating Ricky Bowen._

She almost jumps at remembering it, that this is her life now. That this is a statement that’s wholly, fully true. And she can just kiss him if she wants.

With a mouthful of greasy pizza cheese, she postpones _whenever_ for the time being.

To avoid saying anything too embarrassing in her hazy, love-ridden daze, she clears her throat and pushes her plate away, “So is that claw machine a total scam or what?”

“Oh, I’m actually very good at that,” Ricky looks back at the game, nods at it, “I think there were three Mother’s Days I won my mom’s gift from there.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Better than ugly flowers.”

“Leave my flowers alone, I like them!” she says, “I also don’t believe you can actually win.”

“So little faith in me, Ginarina.”

“It’s not personal, no one can win those games.”

“Well, _I can_ ,” Ricky finishes his pizza, then hops to standing next to their booth, “You want the pink bear or the red one?”

“No way!” she leans back in her seat, watching him run towards the game.

“Pink or red, Gi?”

“Pink,” she decides to amuse him, then stands too. She walks over to him, places her chin in the crook of his shoulder, and watches him start moving the small lever around.

“Pink it is,” he smirks, and Gina’s laugh ripples across his cheek.

He drops the prize almost immediately.

“Nice one, Bowen,” she pays his shoulder.

“You’re distracting me!”

“Am I?” she kisses him lightly on his cheek.

“Yeah,” he laughs, fishes in his pocket for another dollar bill, “Very much so.”

“Fine, I gotta go to the bathroom anyway,” she steps back, smooths out her dress, “And our friends might show up here if you don’t get me home soon so I can deliver a full-fledged report on this date so...”

“I’m gonna get you the pink one,” he taps on the glass.

“Okay,” she nods, turning on her heel and walking toward the bathroom, but not before committing the image of her dumb boyfriend trying to win her a little toy from a pizza shop arcade game.

It’s late by the time Ricky’s pulling back into her driveway to drop her off, but Gina knows there’s at least four people sitting on the couch waiting for a full report.

“Oh, I see Carlos,” Ricky waves lightly as he slows the car to a stop, turns the engine off, “You weren’t kidding.”

“I was not.”

“Well they’re going to be very disappointed when they hear where I took you.”

“Who cares,” she shrugs, not wanting to move from her seat just yet, “I thought it was perfect.”

“Would have been even better if you gave me five more minutes,” he huffs, “I could have gotten you the pink one.”

“There will be more dates, Ricky.”

“Really?” And his eyes are so bright, so hopeful, Gina feels like squinting just to take him in.

“Really,” she nods, crinkling the edges of the bouquet in her lap, “I’ll take you on a Gina date next time.”

“Sounds fun for me and my two left feet,” he laughs, and she places a hand on the door, swinging it open. “Wait, wait, wait! I’m supposed to get the door for you!” Ricky all but runs out of his seat and around the car. Gina’s door’s already open but she lets him run anyway, waits with her feet dangling over the side of the seat.

“We’re not trying to buy ourselves any more minutes here, you know,” she teases, “You don’t have to be all gentlemanly.”

“I want to,” he shrugs, holding and hand out to help her out of the car, “Besides, I saw the way EJ was looking at me when we weren’t talking a few months ago.”

“He’s harmless,” she brushes him off as they start walking towards the front door, “Or at least, he’s harmless _now_.”

“Well harmless or not,” Ricky says, hopping up the small step to the porch, “I might not have to be the ‘right guy’ but I still wanna try.”

“You’re not so bad, Bowen,” she hums, nudges his shoulder as she settles herself, facing him in front of the door.

“Thought I was incredible and amazing?”

“And pretty.”

“Right.”

“Pretty annoying.”

“Ouch, straight to the ego, that one Gi,” Ricky clutches a hand dramatically to his heart, and Gina laughs, easing up on her tip toes.

“It was a pretty good first date,” she reasons, her lips a breath from his.

“I’ll take it.”

Her heart beating wildly, she reaches up, throws her hands around his neck, one still cutting her ugly bouquet of flowers, and kisses him soundly. Her body sinks into his as his hands find her waist, his lips chasing hers with every breath.

She pulls back only a necessary inch, and smiles brighter than she thought possible, and in a whispered breath, “You wanna come inside?”

“Yeah?” Ricky’s eyebrows pop up, “Not sick of me yet.”

“Yeah well, after a kiss like that, I think it’s only fair you endure the interrogation too,” she shrugs, kisses him quick again for good measure, “Plus, I do wanna kiss you like eight more times before I let you leave.”

“Hm, just eight?” His nose tickles against hers, pulling her closer to him yet again.

“Nine?”

He kisses her again through a breathy laugh.

“An even ten,” he wagers, and far be it from her to give him anything less. She tugs him inside her house, her _home,_ heart flying in an incredibly amazingly pretty free-fall.

“The lovebirds have arrived!”

“Ricky?”

“Hey guys,” Ricky nods, still clutching onto Gina’s hand. He leans over and whispers into her ear, “You didn’t tell me EJ was here too! I thought it was just Kourt and Los!”

“Surprise!” She whispers weakly, then drops his hand and slips her bag over one shoulder, her bouquet in the other, “I’m just gonna go change out of my dress.”

“You’re leaving me down here?” Ricky implores, “Alone?”

“Five minutes, babe,” she points, then eyes her friends as she heads towards the stairs, “Keep him in one piece, okay?”

She runs up the stairs, ignores the way her stomach leaps as she hears her friends already bickering and teasing Ricky about her pet name slip. She laughs the whole run up the stairs, her heart light and her mind racing.

She barely stops herself from cheesily leaning against her bedroom door when she shuts it, closing her eyes and sighing happily. She squeals to herself just a little, gives herself a moment just to be a teenage girl in love with a boy in the place she was always meant to be.

Incredible. Amazing, Pretty.

Just Ricky.

She almost feels silly for feeling so nervous and awkward in here before. She drops her flowers on her desk next to the ones from opening night and shrugs off her small jacket, places her bag next to it before rummaging through her drawers for something more comfortable. She stops before running back downstairs, careful not to take too long lest her boyfriend not actually survive the interrogation going on downstairs.

Gina only stops on her way out the door to grab her phone, that she’d stuffed in the top of her bag before hopping out of the car when they’d gotten home, barely giving the motion a second though. She tugs the top of the bag open lightly, flips it over to let it’s contents tumble out onto her bed, too busy to fish around inside it in her rush to get back downstairs.

Her phone falls out, her lipstick, her wallet, and—

A red plush bear.

She picks it up gingerly, pulls at the tag on the bottom as she plays with the soft feel of it in her hands, marvels at the simplicity of the action, and the awe of it still.

**_you were right, i couldn’t get the pink one before you finished in the bathroom… next time! <3_ **

****

She hugs the red bear close to her chest and gives herself another moment.

“Gina! Hurry up, he won’t tell us anything!”

“One minute!” She calls back out other room. Laughing lightly to herself, she places the small bear neatly on top of her bed, gives it a place in her new and incredible, amazing world.

She runs down the stairs, full force into a life she still feels like she could dream about.


End file.
